


i'll take my heart clean apart (if it helps yours beat)

by iamirondad



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Morgan and Peter being the cutest siblings, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Precious Peter Parker, Protective Morgan Stark, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Temporary Character Death, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019, a bucket load of iron dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-11-16 13:16:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 53,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20821982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamirondad/pseuds/iamirondad
Summary: Buckle yourselves in for an angst-fueled month, with our favourite father and son duo, Tony Stark and Peter Parker.





	1. Shaky Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After saving the universe, Tony struggles in his recovery, but Peter is back and is there to hold him up during his lowest moments.
> 
> Warnings: Alcoholism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello & welcome to my (Iron Dad) whumptober! 31 chapter straight days of angst with our favourite son and father duo! Of course, with Morgan, Pepper, May, Happy & Rhodey!
> 
> All these prompts follow Endgame, but in a universe where Tony survived! Only two or three will be sticking to canon (you'll see why) and if you don't like that, I will put a warning at the top of those, so you can skip.
> 
> Same goes for 'Major Character Death' most of these prompts are 'angst with a happy ending' but three do include character deaths, and when the time comes for those, I will definitely put a warning!

Peter didn’t stop talking from the moment he stepped foot inside the lab, Tony’s only wish was that he had the strength to listen. It wasn’t Peter’s fault, the kid loved to natter, and Tony had done nothing in an attempt to stop him. After five years without him, he would willingly listen to Peter ramble on for hours on end, and he would treasure every second in a way that he never had before.  
  
Tony couldn’t pay attention because he was distracted by his hands. He was attempting to repair a tear in Peter’s suit, but his _Alcoholic Neuropathy_ decided to flare up, making it impossible to stop his hands from shaking, even his state of the art prosthetic arm, suffered the same misfortune.   
  
He’d been diagnosed with nerve damage shortly after Morgan’s second birthday, it wasn’t a shock considering that his twenties and thirties were an intangible blur that could only be deciphered by Rhodey’s version of events, pictures, and the occasional Youtube video. It hurt, that he had been able to turn his life around, but was constantly haunted by the man he once was.   
  
“Mr. Stark, are you listening?”  
  
Tony flinched at the sudden question, “Yes, kid.” He tried to sound nonchalant and hoped that Peter would go back to his usual chatter.   
  
Peter knew of Tony’s struggles with nerve damage and the aftermath of the snap, for the latter, he’d been there at every step of the recovery process, apart from the days May and Pepper forced him to go to school. In Tony’s eyes, it didn’t matter that Peter knew, he didn’t want his kid to worry about him, that wasn’t his job.   
  
Tony lost hold on the needle and it dropped onto the desk, “Shit.”  
  
“Mr. Stark?”

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me_that_?!” _Fuck it_, he didn't want to shout at Peter because he wasn't angry at the kid. Peter couldn’t help the fact that he had programmed himself to call Tony that. In all honesty, Peter had achieved the impossible by making the formality in the name fade away, and over time, it had become oddly enduring.  
  
Tony hated having to tear the phrase from Peter’s repertoire but every time he heard him say it, he was transported back to Titan...  
  
_I don't wanna go, I don't wanna go, **Mr. Stark**, please. _  
  
Or the day, he almost died, and one it was one of the last things he heard before blacking out...  
  
_Mr. Stark? Can you hear me? It's Peter. Hey. We won, **Mr. Stark**._  
  
Tony wished that Peter could say it without either of them having to fear the repercussions. “Shit…” Tony tangled his fingers in his hair, and dipped his chin to his chest, too ashamed to look Peter in the eye, “I’m sorry, Pete, I didn’t say--I didn’t mean to shout at you…”  
  
Tony didn’t look up, but he could hear Peter taking small cautious steps towards him, “Hey...” He spoke softly, Tony had heard him use this tone recently, with Morgan, after she fell off her bike and scraped her knee. Peter balled his hands around his suit, “I can do that.”  
  
Tony pulled back, he didn’t care that Peter had super strength and potentially they could be there for hours. He leaned back in his chair to look up at him, “No.”   
  
“Let go, Tony...” Peter’s mouth twitched into a mischievous smirk, “Or I’ll replace all your coffee with decaf.”   
  
“Was that a threat?”  
  
“Obviously...” Peter tried to pry the suit away from Tony’s weak grasp.   
  
“I can do it,” Tony said assertively, although the slight quiver in voice tore down his crumbling façade.  
  
“It’s my suit, Tony.” Peter leaned forward, gently prying Tony’s fingers away from the material, almost like an adult would, when a child refuses to let go of something they shouldn’t be holding. Tony wasn’t trying to act like a baby, he was just desperate to help his kids. When Peter managed to pull the suit away from his grasp, he felt as if he had been rendered useless, “I can do it.”  
  
Peter pulled up a chair around, and sat beside him; Tony watched as Peter studied the small tear in his suit, “You can’t sew to save your life, bud.” He held out his hand, hoping Peter would give it back.  
  
“I can learn.” Peter buried his hand into his pocket and took out his phone.  
  
“Pigs will fly, Pete, pigs will fly.” Tony joked as he quietly shuffled over, in an attempt to grab the suit while Peter was distracted.   
  
Peter flung it over his shoulder, without even looking away from his phone; that was cheating because Peter had the unfair advantage of his sixth sense.  
  
“Look, let me do it.” Tony pleaded, “It’s an easy fix.”   
  
“Tony, it’s okay.”  
  
“It’s not okay, Pete!” Tony screamed, throwing his hands back, as he fought against his tears that were threatening to fall, “I should be able to fix my own kid’s suit whenever it’s torn. because you’re the one who goes out there, risking your_ life_ every single day! And I can’t even--”  
  
“Okay....” Peter cut in, “I understand.”   
  
Tony bit down on his lip, “You…” He sucked in a sharp uneven breath, “You deserve_ better_…And so does your sister.”  
  
Peter shook his head as he blurted out a couple of nonsensical words, his face flushed red as he tried to anchor himself, “No.”   
  
Tony gestured to the suit hanging over Peter’s shoulder, “I can’t even…”  
  
Peter knocked it onto the floor, out of view, “Forget the suit!”  
  
“It’s not that easy, kid.”  
  
Peter’s throat cracked, “You know my episodes? With the whole...uh…”  
  
“Sensory overload.”  
  
“Yeah.” Peter nodded, “...That.”   
  
Peter’s episodes were unbearable to witness, but unfortunately, they came hand-in-hand with his powers. It was a period, where Tony’s world stood still. Even his blackout protocol wasn’t one hundred percent effective, Peter would still suffer tremendously, and he’d spent a fair share of his time sobbing his heart out. All they could ever do was be there and reassure him that it would all be okay, in the end, but it never got any easier.  
  
“I can’t control that…” Peter stuttered, “It just happens. It sucks ‘cause I can’t focus. You and May make me wait like two days before I go on patrol again. You know? It makes me feel like...shit ‘cause people get hurt when I should be out there helping them.”  
  
“That’s not your fault though, kid.” Tony reassured him, “You can’t control that.”  
  
Peter bounced his eyebrows up, “I know.”  
  
The reality dawned on Tony slower than it should have, “Oh.”  
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“I see what you did there.”  
  
“I don’t want you to feel like that.” Peter leaned in, and playfully nudged Tony’s shoulder, “...You’re...awesome.”  
  
Tony snorted as he tapped Peter’s arm, “You're pretty_ awesome_ too.”  
  
Peter jumped out of his chair and retrieved his suit of the floor, “And hey, I've asked MJ if she can patch this up.” He picked up his backpack, and shoved it inside, “She can draw and sow with her eyes shut.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Peter smiled as he turned back, “You know, we all have our good days and bad days.”  
  
Tony narrowed his eyes as he spun around in his chair, “When did you get so... _philosophical_?”  
  
“Something to do with being dead for five years.” He shrugged, “...I think.”  
  
“What did we say about joking about that?”  
  
“To explicitly do it whenever I can.” Peter recited, Tony glared at him, “No?” 

* * *

"_The only thing that matters now is everything you think of me_  
_In you, I find my worth, in you, I find my identity_."  
**\- Lauren Daigle - You Say.**


	2. Explosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter’s first priority was Morgan. Now, and forever.

Morgan is a _runner. _  
  
Peter learned that on the day they met. _Well_, he was warned. _She’s fast on her feet and is gone in the blink of an eye. _  
  
Whenever he came over to play, she’d wear him out, with all her constant moving, from corner to corner, room to room. She was antsy, unable to stay in one place too long, and there was no way to distract her with a game, or a movie. She’d be up on her feet within a minute, looking for something else to do.   
  
Peter was built to chase after Morgan, according to Tony and Pepper, he was _born_ to run after her. He was the only one who could catch up with her, and understand what she wanted to do next. He didn’t care if she wanted to play one-thousand different games in a single afternoon, he was more than happy to follow her anywhere, he had almost five years to catch up on, after all.   
  
However, going out for the day? That was a whole _new_ task.   
  
Tony had, spontaneously, decided to take Morgan and Peter out for breakfast, while Pepper and May spent some quality '_Mum' _time together, whatever that meant.   
  
Peter, being the paranoid older brother he was destined to be, started drawing up plans and solutions for every possible situation Morgan could run into.  
  
“Five minutes, twenty-two seconds….” Tony laughed, as they watched Morgan run off, towards a Florist, “That’s gotta be a new record.”  
  
Peter chuckled under his breath, he nudged Tony’s shoulder as he skipped forward, “You get our Pretzels....” He sped ahead, “I’ll get her.”  
  
“On it!” Tony called after him, with _no_ argument.  
  
Tony was playing this off with his usual nonchalant bravado, but Peter knew that inside it killed him to see his daughter run, and know he’s not fast enough to catch up with her, not like before. Tony was adapting to life with a prosthetic arm, and still recovering from the fallout of using the stones.  
  
Peter had seen what Spider-Man was doing to him. Tony was reluctantly off-duty - he had to wait another four months before he could even think of stepping foot in an Iron Man suit again. If Peter got hurt on patrol, Tony had to rely on other people to help. _Of course_, they were the people Tony trusted the most; Happy, Rhodey, and Pepper. It didn’t matter who helped though, it tore Tony apart - not being able to help his kids.   
  
“Petey, look at these ones!” Morgan pointed up at a red and blue arrangement of flowers, “They’re Spider-Man flowers.”   
  
Peter’s eyebrows shot up, he pressed a finger to his lips, he shook his head as he knelt down in front of her. He loved that Morgan knew, it made life easier for them, but sometimes, it was hard to ask a four-year-old to keep a secret, especially one that big. His shoulders deflated, when he noticed that she was right because next to the flowers, was a small plaque that read, '_The Spider-Man Bouquet_.’  
  
Peter caught Morgan’s frailing hand as he stood back up to study the bouquet, his wasn’t the only one. There were arrangements for every _Avenger_.   
  
“Do you like them?” Morgan asked as she swung back and forth, using his arm as a monkey bar.  
  
Peter hummed as he looked down at her, “I love them...maybe, we…” His words died in his throat as a sharp pain shot up his spine and the hairs on the back of his arms stood on end; a warning he was all-too-familiar with. His_ Spidey Sense_ \- commonly referred to as his _Peter Tingle_, thanks to May - was not reliable, but Peter knew that something was about to happen. Something _big_.  
  
However, it hadn’t felt dread like _this_, not since the final battle, when Tony snapped his fingers and almost lost his life, saving the universe.   
  
_Tony._ Logically, in Peter’s confusion, that’s where his mind went first. He clutched onto Morgan’s hand as tightly as he could, not wanting to lose sight of her. He snapped his head back, searching for Tony, he was on the other side of the street, talking to the Pretzel stand worker, wearing his signature ear-to-ear grin.   
  
He was _safe_.  
  
Reality hit Peter when he didn’t have long left to react to the coming danger.  
  
Tony was safe. _They were_ _not_.   
  
Peter’s first priority was Morgan. Now, and forever.  
  
He didn’t have his web-shooters, and they had no time left to run. So, he hoisted her up into his arms.  
  
Morgan didn’t need an explanation as she tightened her arms around his back, it was almost second nature for her to be in her brother’s arms. She was understandably protective of Peter because, for the first four years of her life, he was a bedtime story. When they first met, she hated letting go; she was afraid that they would lose him again.   
  
Peter tangled his fingers in her hair, to cradle her head; he threw himself onto the ground and he pulled her as close as he possibly could, acting as her shield.  
  
Peter was blinded by an explosion, and he felt the ground underneath him slip away. He locked his arms around Morgan as they were thrown around.   
  
He didn’t remember passing out, but he woke to the sound of Morgan, sobbing.  
  
“Petey! Petey, _wake_ up…”   
  
He smacked his lips together as he tried to answer her, but his throat seized, he turned his head to his side as his reflexes kicked in, and began to dry heave, when his stomach failed to bring anything up, he erupted in a series of violent coughs; he bit down on his lip to conceal his hurt. Morgan was already scared, he didn’t need to add to that.  
  
“Stop it, Petey…” Morgan hiccuped, “_Stop_ it!”  
  
Peter’s coughs came to an end. He wanted to open his eyes and reassure her that everything was going to be alright, but he could feel the darkness, wrapping its cold fingers around his ankles, trying to drag him back down.   
  
His body was on _fire._   
  
Something metal and heavy was pressing down on his leg. The entire right side of his body was numb; he couldn’t even move that arm, he didn’t know if it was because of how he landed or if it was an injury sustained during the blast.   
  
This wasn’t like when the Vulture trapped him, it was worse. This time, he’d taken every possible precaution to protect Morgan, so he took the full force of the explosion. He wouldn’t take it back, he saved his sister, and that was the most important thing. All he regretted was the fact that he couldn’t help her get out.  
  
He weakly brushed his left hand against the ground, and Morgan grabbed hold of it, as she cried out his name.  
  
“It’s…It’s _ok..ay_.”   
  
“Petey…?”   
  
Peter deflated, as he rolled his head to the side. He was overwhelmed by a repetitive buzzing in his ears, every noise sounded like it was thousands of miles away.   
  
It felt like he was about to drown, but he was able to stay afloat because Morgan was holding his hand.  
  
“Morgan!” _Tony? _That sounded like Tony.  
  
“Daddy? Daddy!”  
  
“Hey, sweetheart... I’m over here.”  
  
“Daddy! Petey is sleeping!”  
  
_No_, Peter thought, _I’m not sleeping...just...resting…_He tried to move, but he was paralysed; he could only tighten his hand around Morgan’s.  
  
“Okay, okay, honey…” Tony breathed, “Can you be really grown up for me?”  
  
“Hm-hm.”  
  
“Can you see if _Petey’s_ breathing? Is his chest going up and down?”  
  
_I’m okay ...just...just..._  
  
“Yeah, it is!”   
  
“That’s good. I’m gonna get you both out, okay?”   
  
“Okay…”  
  
“Morguna..._baby_, I need you to crawl to me…”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Honey, you can do it, I know you can.”  
  
“I can’t leave Petey!”  
  
She pulled on Peter’s hand.  
  
“I know it’s scary…”  
  
“_No_!”  
  
Peter fought against the looming darkness to open his eyes, he couldn’t let Morgan put her life on the line, and he knew that she’d listen to him, “Hey…” Morgan’s lower lip trembled as she looked at him, tears rolling down her cheeks as she yanked on his arm, trying to get him to move, “Go…” She shook her head, “...._Go_.”  
  
“Morguna, I’m gonna get your brother out, I promise…” Tony coaxed, “Right, kid?”   
  
Peter couldn’t see Tony from where he was, but he could imagine the fear etched across his face, “Yeah...”  
  
Morgan looked back at Tony, “You promise, three-thousand?”  
  
“….Yes…_Yes_, I do!”  
  
“Okay....” Morgan let her hand fall out of his, and she turned as she crawled over towards Tony.  
  
Morgan was Peter’s anchor, and she let go. _So_, he let himself sink to the ocean floor.   
  
Morgan was _safe_, and that’s all that mattered.

* * *

Peter knew where he was. He didn’t even need to open his eyes. The distance sound of Tony’s Alpaca enjoying his afternoon snack was the confirmation he needed. He was in his bed, at the Stark lakehouse.  
  
Peter felt fingers brush against his hand, “Kid, you with _me_?”   
  
“Hey…” He locked his fingers around Tony’s hand.  
  
“Hey.”   
  
The clogs turned slowly, and as soon as Peter caught up with what had happened, he bolted upright, screaming out Morgan’s name in a blind panic. The head rush made him regret sitting up so hastily but he needed to know where she was.  
  
“Hey, hey...” Tony caught Peter’s arms and held them, “Look at me...” Tony knelt down on the mattress, “Morgan’s downstairs, she’s got a few scratches and bruises, but she’s going to be fine…”  
  
Peter relaxed, and leaned his forehead against Tony’s shoulder, “...Yeah?”  
  
Tony lay his chin on Peter’s head, “Yeah, I promise, bud. She’s okay.”   
  
“That’s…Good.”  
  
Tony leaned back, and cupped Peter’s cheek with his hand, “You... scared us, bud.” His throat cracked, as he pushed his hand back through Peter’s hair, “If you didn’t have your powers…”  
  
Peter swallowed the lump in his throat, “But...I do.” He’d passed out after Morgan got out. Meaning, he’d been unconscious when Tony got to him, he couldn’t imagine how fucking terrifying that must have been. Tony had only just got Peter _back_, so seeing him like that, couldn’t have been easy.  
  
“Yeah.” Tony bent down, pressing a kiss against Peter’s temple, “Yeah, you do.” He gently nudged Peter’s chin up, and his mouth twitched into a smile, “You ready to be _lovingly _tackled by your sister?”   
  
“Always.”

* * *

‘_Find an anchor. Something meaningfu__l_ _to you._’  
**\- Teen Wolf. **


	3. Delirium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whatever was wrong with Peter, he didn’t know where he was. He thought he was back on Titan, fading away. Not in the garden of his second home, with a fever.

“Daddy, look it’s Petey!”  
  
It was a Saturday afternoon, so Tony hadn’t expected to see Peter until the evening, when he came over with May for dinner. The kid usually got caught up in his duties as Spider-Man. If the crime in Queens wasn’t eventful enough, he would call ahead and ask if he could take a quick power nap on the couch as Morgan_ attempted_ to braid his hair. Tony had to remind him, multiple times that he didn’t have to call, the lake house was his second home; he spent two weeks of every month living with them, whenever May was on her night shift and had to sleep during the day; Peter was too goddamn polite, and phoned anyway.  
  
Tony was more than_ surprised_, because he knew that Peter had set aside the afternoon to spend time with his, now, girlfriend, Michelle. They’d only recently become an _item_, so recent that Tony still thought that his ‘_dad teasing_’ was funny. The humour was a simple way of masking his fear that his stupidly amazing kid was growing up way too fast; May often did it too.  
  
Tony was bouncing on the porch swing, with a book in his hand. Morgan was sat in the doorway of the house, playing with her Spider-Man and Iron Man action figures.  
  
Morgan was waving, presumably at Peter, but her forehead creased as she tilted her head to her shoulder. Something wasn’t _right. _Whenever Peter came around, he’d charge over, and scoop Morgan into his arms without a moment’s notice. So, something was _definitely_ not right.  
  
Tony dropped his book and hurried over. “Shit.”   
  
Peter was in his new and approved suit, it was black and red, instead of the old blue and red combo. Peter had decided he needed a rebrand after being _dead_ for five years. What Tony noticed first, was that he wasn't wearing his mask, he wasn’t even holding it. His skin was devoid of colour, and his eyes were vacant, staring lifelessly at the ground as he stumbled over.   
  
Tony nudged Morgan’s shoulder, “Hey, baby, can you go and get Mummy for me?”  
  
“Okay.” Morgan ran inside, calling out for Pepper.  
  
Tony charged down the steps, closing the distance between him and Peter, “Hey, kid!” He caught Peter’s frailing wrists, and held them, “Peter! Look at me.”   
  
Peter looked up, his eyes no longer had the Bambi-like familiarity that Tony had grown attached to, they were instead, a cold grey, “Mr. Stark?”  
  
“Yeah.” Tony pressed the back of his hand against Peter’s forehead, “Hey, what’s going on?” He asked, keeping a firm hold on Peter’s wrist, “What happened?”  
  
Peter winced as he threw his head back, “I don’t wanna go!”  
  
“Hey, hey.” Tony pulled him close, and nudged his chin, so the teen would look him in eye, “I’ve got you.” He pushed Peter’s hair out of his eyes, “Go where, buddy?”  
  
Peter deflated, pressing his forehead against Tony’s shoulder, “I don’t wanna go, Mr. Stark!” _Titan. _Whatever was wrong with Peter, he didn’t know where he was. He thought he was back on Titan, fading away. Not in the garden of his second home, with a fever.   
  
“Peter?” Tony tangled his fingers in Peter’s hair, “Kid, you’re not going anywhere.”_Ever again._ His throat seized at the memory, one he had tried to bury deep, “You’re here, you’re okay. Thanos is gone. That’s all in the past, bud.”  
  
“Thanos…”  
  
“He’s gone.” Tony repeated, “He can’t hurt you.”  
  
Peter wrapped his arms around Tony, holding on in an unforgiving grip, “I don’t…”  
  
“Okay, okay...” Tony folded his arms around him, “I’ve got you.”  
  
“I don’t want _you_ to go, Mr. Stark…” Peter sobbed as he grew heavier in his arms. _Shit_, he didn't think he was on Titan anymore. He was on the battleground, the one where Tony almost lost his life. Peter was delirious, he didn’t know real from fantasy, and Tony needed to find the right words he could use to reassure him, “I don’t want you to go, please.”  
  
“I’m not going anywhere." Tony muttered softly, “I’m right here.” He pressed a kiss in Peter’s curls, “I’m fine.”   
  
“Tony?” Peter hiccuped, “I’m sorry.”  
  
“No, no…” Tony pushed on his arm, cupping Peter’s cheek, he brushed away tears with the side of his thumb, “It’s all right. It’s okay.”  
  
“I don’t wanna lose you too.” He whimpered. Peter confided in Tony when he was hurt, but he never opened up like this. He never mentioned his parents or his uncle, because it was an open wound. Tony hadn’t even realised he was on the same tier as they had been, not until he was recovering in hospital, after the snap, and he saw what his loss could have done to Peter, if he hadn’t made it.   
  
“I know, kid.” He sighed as he rubbed circles against his back, “I know.” Peter’s limbs loosened, like a puppet cut free from its strings; he collapsed into Tony’s arms, boneless. “Peter?” Tony breathed, panicked, “Shit.” He manoeuvred his kid so that he could scoop him up into his arms, with ease. He bolted towards the house, “Friday, scan him now!” He barked the order, as soon as he made it into the lounge, “Pepper!”  
  
Tony carefully lowered himself to the floor, cradling Peter in his arms. He leaned against the back of the couch, as he pushed Peter’s hair away from his sweat-ridden forehead, “Kid?” He pleaded, “Hey, _kid_, look at me.”   
  
Peter’s eyes flickered open, “...Ben?”  
  
A heavy weight hit Tony in the chest, stealing his breath, “No.” He shook his head, “No, baby. It’s me, it’s Tony.”   
  
Peter moved his hand, and weakly tapped his fingers against Tony’s prosthetic arm, “Tony...?”  
  
“The one and only.” He kept combing his hand through Peter’s hair, but he couldn’t tell if the comfort was for him, or for Peter, “What’s going on with you?”  
  
“Tony!” Pepper rushed down the stairs, with Morgan close behind, “Oh, god.” Pepper paled at the sight, and moved over, falling to her knees beside the pair, “What’s wrong with him?”  
  
Tony shook his head, “I don’t know.” _God,_ he hated not knowing.  
  
Morgan’s eyes filled with tears, in confusion. She cautiously moved towards them, “Petey?” She reached out, brushing her hand against his. Peter flinched in Tony’s arms as he let out a muted yelp; Morgan stumbled back, her lower lip trembling, panic etched over her face, “Sorry...I didn’t--”  
  
“Don’t worry, honey.” Tony eased, as Pepper wrapped an arm around their daughter’s back, “It’s not your fault, he’s just a little scared.”   
  
Morgan swallowed a lump in her throat, “Scared of what?  
  
“Um...” Tony wasn’t sure how he could explain this to someone so young. He wished that Morgan never had to see Peter in these conditions, but it came hand-in-hand with him being _Spider-Man_.   
  
“...Morgan?” Peter muttered feebly.  
  
“Yeah, kid.” Tony sighed, “It’s Morgan.”  
  
Morgan hid behind Pepper’s shoulder as Peter outstretched his hand, “It’s alright, sweetheart. You can hold his hand.” Pepper coaxed, “You won’t hurt him.”   
  
Morgan got down on her knees, and slowly moved forward, locking her fingers around Peter’s hand. Peter’s mouth twitched into a smile as he held on, “Why are...” He choked on his words, “Why are...you crying?” Tony shook his head. It didn’t matter what was happening in Peter’s life, he could be at his lowest moment, or on his deathbed; he would always put the people around him _first._ Ever since his return, Morgan became one of the most important people in his life, a bond that ran deeper than blood.  
  
“...You’re poorly.” Morgan told him, as she clung onto his hand.  
  
“No…” Peter’s smile crumbled, “I'm...there..._bad guys_…”  
  
Tony’s ears perked up, “Peter, what happened?”  
  
“Bad guys, and um, _um_…” Peter stuttered, he gradually grew heavier, “Run…”  
  
“Friday, what the hell is taking so long?!” Tony bellowed.  
  
_“I’m nearly there, boss.”_  
  
“Hurry up!”  
  
Morgan’s face fell, she tried to pull her hand away, “Petey...that _hurts_…” Tony faltered; Peter wasn’t in control and his strength was unprecedented; Tony pried Peter’s fingers away from Morgan’s hand, with Pepper’s help.  
  
“Sorry…” Peter bawled, “I’m sorry.”  
  
Morgan sniffled, “It’s okay…” Tony let out an exasperated sigh. _What had he done to deserve these two? _  
  
“No…” Peter let out a small scream, his eyes rolled back into his head.  
  
Tony jolted in concern, “Peter?” He absentmindedly moved his fingers, pressing them against Peter’s neck to check his pulse.   
  
“Petey!” Morgan screamed; Pepper looped her hands under Morgan’s arms, and picked her up, turning her away from Peter.  
  
“Peter, kid!” Tony shouted out desperately, “Friday!”  
  
_“Peter’s symptoms match those of a C-23 overdose. C-23, known as Euphoria has been described as a-”_  
  
“Cut all that crap, Fri.” Tony barked, “What do we do!?”  
  
_“Euphoria is known to kill most of its users.”_  
  
Pepper yelped as she clutched Morgan in her arms; Tony bounced Peter, back and forth, in his arms, in absolute terror, “What?!”   
  
“_But Peter’s metabolism and heightened healing abilities are fighting against the substance.”_  
  
“Next time, will you just lead with that?!” Tony hissed through gritted teeth.  
  
“Friday, what can we do?” Pepper asked.   
  
_“I suggest administering Naloxone. “_  
  
Pepper’s eyebrows knitted together, “Naloxone?”  
  
“It’s a nasal spray.” Tony told her, “_Narcan_. There’s one in the medicine cabinet.”  
  
“I’m on it.” Pepper placed Morgan back onto her feet, “I’ll be right back, sweetie.” She hurried towards the kitchen.  
  
“Hey, Morguna…” Tony called, Morgan turned, tears welling in her eyes, “He’s going to be okay.”  
  
“Why…” Morgan wiped tears away with the back of her sleeve, “Why’s he sleeping?”  
  
“Because he’s sick, but he’s gonna be fine.”  
  
Pepper raced back over, she knelt beside Peter, and administered the _Narcan_; Tony kept twiddling his fingers through Peter’s hair, as he kept an eye on Morgan. Pepper leaned back, sitting on her heels as she stroked the side of Peter’s cheek.   
  
Morgan moved closer, “...Can I hold his hand now?” Peter was limp in Tony’s arms, and Morgan was scared out of her mind. _Of course_, she wanted to hold his hand again, no matter what had happened before.  
  
Tony nodded, “Yes, you can, baby.”  
  
Morgan kneeled, and grabbed Peter’s hand, holding it close. Peter’s face scrunched up, and colour flushed into his cheeks as he blinked his eyes open, he muttered something, it sounded like Morgan’s name, but Tony couldn’t be sure, it was an intangible jumble.  
  
“Ah, there he is.” Tony sang, Peter moved, trying his best to sit up, “Hey, _hey_…” Tony grabbed his shoulder, Pepper did the same, “Slow down there, kid.”   
  
“I’m fine,” Peter mumbled; Tony almost chuckled at that.  
  
“You’re _fine_, okay.” Tony knew Peter wouldn’t rest until he was sat up, so with Pepper’s help, they guided the teenager up into a sitting position. Peter hummed his thanks, he leaned his weight against Tony’s side, and lay his head against his collarbone.   
  
Morgan scurried over, tucking herself under Peter’s arm, leaning her head against his lap, “Uh, oh..” Peter wrapped an arm around her, “Hey, munchkin.” Pepper got up and headed into the kitchen.  
  
“So…” Tony trailed, “What happened to the ‘_I’m having the day off to spend time with MJ_’ plan?”  
  
“She’s got..” Peter cleared his throat, “She’s got the flu. So..she told me to…” Peter was spaced, Tony wasn’t sure if he’d remember any of this by tomorrow, “...Go..save kittens from trees and stuff…”   
  
Tony raised his eyebrows, “I’m guessing a kitten didn’t do this to you.”  
  
“No.” Peter chuckled, “...Bad guys.”  
  
“I gathered. I’ll check the baby monitor protocol, and track them down.”  
  
Peter nestled closer, “Okay.”   
  
Pepper returned, holding a cup of water, “Here you go, honey.” She guided the cup into Peter’s hands.   
  
“Thanks, Pepper.” He muttered as he sipped at it slowly.  
  
“Don’t ever do that again,” Pepper told him, as she sat down opposite them.   
  
Tony nodded, “I second that.”   
  
“Sorry.”  
  
Pepper shook her head, “Don’t be.”  
  
“Can we watch a movie?” Morgan proposed as she snuggled up against Peter.  
  
“Sounds like a plan.” Tony agreed, knowing it would make it easier to run a few tests on Peter, to give him the all-clear, while he dozed off on the couch with Morgan by his side.  
  
“I better...” Peter blurted, “I better tell…”  
  
“Don’t worry, I’ll call everyone.” Tony reassured him, “And I’ll have some soup send to MJ too, how does that sound?”  
  
“Amazing.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you look close....there might be a reference in their somewhere for Zendaya's TV show.....


	4. Human Shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter had been asleep for seven days, and he still hadn’t woken up. Morgan didn’t understand why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, stark-er fans, please stay away from my work!

Peter had been asleep for seven days, and he still hadn’t woken up.   
  
Morgan didn’t understand _why_. She asked him to wake up, but he wouldn’t. He was in the hospital wing at the Avengers Headquarters, surrounded by noisy machines. Morgan hadn’t liked them at first, but then she found out they were helping Peter get better, and now, she loved them.   
  
Morgan had seen Peter hurt before. He was Spider-Man, so he came home most days with something wrong. A broken arm or leg, a black eye or a cut on his cheek. Morgan never liked it when he got hurt but Peter would always make her laugh, and the injuries would be gone by the morning.   
  
This time, Peter couldn’t make her laugh because he was asleep. _Well, _he wasn’t really. She didn’t understand. She’d learned a big word that she hated. _Coma_. Her dad and mum had cried when they said it, so she knew it was a very scary word.   
  
Peter was in a _coma_. However, he hadn’t got hurt as Spider-Man, he got hurt as himself. Morgan hadn’t been there when it happened, but she’d heard the story a few times. A bad man wanted to hurt Tony but Peter had pushed him out of the way and got hurt instead.  
  
Tony cried a lot. Every time Morgan saw him, he was crying. He was cross too, she’d heard him shout a few times, but he was angry at himself, not the _bad guy_, Morgan didn’t know why because it wasn’t his fault.   
  
They were all living at the Headquarters, waiting for Peter to wake up, so they could go home together. Morgan only got to visit him a few times a day, but she wished she could stay with him all the time. She wanted to be there when he woke up. The first time she saw him in his coma, she’d broken down, in a fit of sobs. She hadn’t meant to. She wanted to be brave, but it was very scary. As time went on, it got a little easier.  
  
“Hey, Daddy.” Morgan skipped in and headed over to where Tony was sat next to Peter’s bed. She heard Happy shut the door behind her, but her mind was set on spending some time with her dad and brother.   
  
Tony welcomed her with a smile, “Hey, Morguna. What have you got there?” He motioned to the piece of paper she was holding.  
  
“I drew Petey a picture.” She hurried over, stopping at the end of the bed, “Hey, Petey.”   
  
Everyone spoke to Peter, even though he couldn’t_ answer. _Aunt May had told her that there was a chance Peter could hear everything they were saying, so all Morgan did was talk, she didn’t want her brother to be lonely.  
  
“I drew you a picture today!” She held it up, Tony leaned over to catch a glimpse, “It’s you, as Spider-Man, saving Gerald because he got stuck in a tree.” Morgan chuckled as Tony snorted a laugh, “I don’t know how he got up there but he’s very silly.”  
  
“That sounds about right.”   
  
Morgan lay the paper near Peter’s feet, “I’m gonna leave it here.” She held onto the end of the bed, as she bounced, back and forth, “Aunt May’s gone to get some dinner, so don’t worry, she’s not far away.” Whenever Morgan was sick, she hated it when her parents had to leave the room, and she didn’t want Peter to _wake _up and worry because May wasn’t nearby.  
  
The bed was taller than Morgan, and she had to stand on her tiptoes to see Peter. “Um, Daddy?”  
  
“Yes, honey?”  
  
Morgan hummed hesitantly, “Can I hold Petey’s hand?”  
  
Tony’s mouth twitched in the corner as he smiled, tears filled his eyes, “Of course, you can,_ or_...” He rubbed his hands together, and jumped onto his feet, “Would you like to sit on the bed with him?”  
  
Morgan’s eyes widened, she hadn’t been able to do that before. She missed cuddling up to Peter’s side and spending the nights whispering secrets to one another that no one else ever heard. She knew he was poorly, and she couldn’t do that yet, but she wanted to be as close as she possibly could be, “Yes, please.”  
  
Tony looped his hands under her arms, and gently sat her down by Peter’s side, “Here you go, sweetie.” The bed was big enough for Morgan to sit next to Peter, without disturbing any wires. Tony moved back to the chair, watching over them. Morgan settled in the corner, and reached out, wrapping her hand around Peter's. She tightened her grasp, but Peter’s hand didn’t move.  
  
Morgan hadn’t seen Peter this up close yet. He looked the same but his skin was a little whiter than usual, and there was a small tube under his nose. Something else was _off_ though. Morgan often fell asleep in Peter’s bed, or vice versa. Peter _moved _a lot. Morgan would often wake up with an arm stretched over her face. Tony had often called him a ‘_fidgeter_.’   
  
Peter wasn’t moving now. He was completely _still,_ and Morgan didn’t like that. It’s wasn’t right. She’d heard the word coma before, but she never knew what it meant until her parents explained it to her. Her best friend, Riri’s grandma didn’t wake up from her coma, and went up to the sky, _forever_. Morgan didn’t want Peter to go. For the first four years of her life, Peter was lost, and then they found him. She didn’t want him to disappear again.  
  
Morgan brushed tears away with the back of her sleeve, her throat cracked, “Daddy…”  
  
Tony looked up, his eyebrows raised in alarm, he charged over, “Hey, hey…” He threaded his fingers through her hair, “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Is Petey gonna wake up?” She hiccuped, Tony’s face paled, “_‘_Cause Riri’s grandma was sleeping for a really long time, and she never woke up. She’s in the sky..and…I don’t want Petey to…”  
  
“Peter is gonna wake up.” Tony told her, “I _promise_. He’s getting better.” He knelt on the floor, and cradled her spare hand in both of his, “Sometimes, people like Riri’s grandma don’t wake up because they’re really sick, but your brother was put into his coma, so his body could heal.” He blinked away tears, “He is very strong and _really_ brave.”  
  
“So he’s not gonna up...to..” She stuttered through a sob, “...The sky?”  
  
“No.” Tony breathed softly, “He’s staying right here, with us. Look, some of the machines are gone now, did you notice?” Morgan looked around, she hadn’t noticed when she came it, but Tony was right, the majority of the machines were gone, “He doesn’t need help to breathe like he did a few days ago. He’s doing that all on his own now.”  
  
Morgan sniffled, “He is?”  
  
“Yeah.”   
  
Morgan squeezed Peter’s hand, “Well done, Petey.”   
  
Tony’s chin dipped to his chest, “Hey….” He looked back up, “Dr. Cho thinks he will wake up soon, maybe even tomorrow.”  
  
Morgan’s face lit up, “Really?!”  
  
“Yeah, honey.” He stood up, gently nudging her chin, “He’ll be back with us soon.”   
  
“I’ve missed him.”  
  
Tony nodded as he looked over at Peter, “Me too.”  
  
“Will we be able to play games?”  
  
“Maybe after he’s rested a little.” Tony told her, “He’s gonna be a little confused when he first wakes up.”   
  
“Oh, okay.”  
  
“But he’s not going anywhere.” Tony kissed the top of her head, “I promise.”  
  
Morgan pointed to her brother, “You gotta kiss Petey too! Or it’s..fav..favour-”  
  
Tony’s forehead creased, “Favouritism?”  
  
“Yep!”  
  
Tony tutted as he shook his head, “We’ve gotta stop letting Rhodey babysit.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss in Peter’s curls, “Should I call Harley now?” Tony joked as he sat back down, “So he isn’t missing out.” Morgan giggled.

She wondered if kissing had healing powers. Whenever she scraped her knee, one of her parents would kiss it, and she’d feel better.   
  
She didn’t have to wait long for an answer.   
  
Peter’s hand_ tightened_ around hers.   
  
Morgan’s laugh came to an abrupt end as she spun her head to look at their hands, “Petey?” He squeezed again, “Daddy! Petey’s squeezing my hand.”  
  
Tony looked up, paralyzed, as he watched Peter’s hand move. He bolted over, skidding to a stop at the top of the bed, “Hey, kid?” He spoke gently, keeping his voice low, he brushed his hand against Peter’s cheek, “Pete, can you hear me?” A small grunt passed Peter’s lips, and he turned his head, leaning into Tony’s palm, “_Kid_?”  
  
Morgan leaned closer, “Petey?”  
  
Tony turned to her, as he stroked his fingers through Peter’s hair, “Hey, Morguna. I need you to be a really big girl and go and tell someone that Peter’s waking up.”  
  
Morgan didn’t want to let go but she knew that Peter needed help, and he wasn’t alone, _their_ dad was with him, “Okay.” She let her fingers slip out her brother’s and she jumped off the bed, beelining for the door.   
  
She charged down the corridor, looking for someone who could help. She spotted Happy, getting a coffee from the machine by the wall.  
  
“Uncle Happy!” She called, quickening her pace.  
  
Happy stopped what he was doing, and met her in the middle, “Hey, Morgan? What’s wrong?” He knelt, and caught her wrists, holding them as she slowly got her breath back, “What are you doing on your own?”   
  
“Petey…” She blurted, “Petey held my hand, and Daddy said he’s waking up.”  
  
Relief etched over his face, and he nodded, “That’s good. Friday, has Dr. Cho been alerted?”  
  
_“Yes, she’s already with them.”_  
  
“Good.” Happy scooped Morgan up into his arms, “Come on, squirt, Let’s get something to eat.”  
  
“What about Petey?” She asked as she tucked her head on his shoulder.  
  
“Dr. Cho has to make sure he’s okay and then I’m sure we can go and see him.”  
  
“Okay.” 

* * *

Morgan impatiently waited on the couch in the breakroom, she kept gazing out of the door, waiting for someone to come and get her, so she could see Peter.  
  
It had been four hours since he woke up, but it felt like _days_. Happy kept trying to distract her with games, but it didn’t work for long. She just wanted to see her brother.  
  
She jumped off the couch when she saw Tony heading down the corridor, “Daddy!” She charged over, throwing herself into him as he turned into the room.  
  
He hoisted her up in his arms, “Hey, baby.”  
  
“Is Peter okay?” Morgan blurted, “Is he awake? Can I see him now?”  
  
Tony let out a soft chuckle, “Yes, yes, and yes.”  
  
“Really!?”  
  
Tony nodded as he turned on his heel, “Come on.” He headed back towards Peter’s room, “He’s been asking for you.”  
  
Tony placed Morgan back on her feet as they turned into the room. Peter was sat up in his bed, smiling, as May and Pepper _mothered_ him.   
  
“Petey!” Morgan charged over, faster than she’d ever run before.  
  
Peter turned, his eyes lit up at the sight of her, “Morgan…” Pepper helped her get up onto the bed. Morgan then wasted no time, she quickly tucked herself under Peter’s arm and rested her head against his side, “Hey...”  
  
“Ah look.” Tony clapped his hands together, “Just what the doctor _ordered_. A Morgan hug.”  
  
“A remedy to cure all ills.” Pepper quipped as she stepped aside with May.  
  
Peter looked down at Morgan, “Hey, munchkin.”  
  
“You’re awake.” Morgan squeaked, excitedly.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Morgan melted into his side, “You’ve been sleeping forever!”  
  
“Sorry.” He stroked his fingers through her hair, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”  
  
“It’s okay, but you scared Daddy too.” Morgan turned her head to look at Tony, who was stood to the side, arms crossed over his chest, “He said he was the one who was meant to get hurt by the bad guy.”  
  
Tears welled in Peter’s eyes as he shook his head, “Tony…”  
  
“Sorry, kid.” Tony shrugged, “Occupational hazard. But on the subject, don’t ever take a bullet for me, ever again.”  
  
Peter nodded, “I’ll try.”  
  
Tony glared at him, “Hey, you--”  
  
“You should say '_T__hank you_,’ Daddy.” Morgan interrupted, “Because Petey saved you.”  
  
The whole room collectively chuckled, Peter leaned his head against Morgan’s shoulder as he laughed.

“Okay, _okay.” _Tony held up his hands, “I won’t forget my manners.” Peter looked back up as Tony reached forward and ruffled his hair, “Thanks, kid."

* * *

"_Though we don't share the same blood_  
_You're my brother and I love you that's the truth_."  
**_ Brother, Kodaline.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to see the aftermath of Peter getting hurt from Morgan's POV, so this was born!
> 
> I've luckily never been in a coma, but I did have a tendency for epileptic seizures, and my little brother had to witness a few of my seizures when he was around Morgan's age, so I was thinking about how he must have felt and channelled that through my characterization of Morgan. So, shoutout to my brother for being his amazing self.


	5. Gunpoint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Peter are unknowingly trapped inside a time-loop and it always ends in the same way. They both die. They have all the time in the world to figure it out, but if they can't remember, Tony will be doomed to watch Peter die, again and again, and again, forever. 
> 
> Inspired by an episode of the X-Files. (Monday, Season Six, Episode Fourteen.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Temporary Character Death, Shooting!!!

Tony cradled Peter in his arms, he brushed his fingers across his cold cheek and muttered soft promises as he slowly rocked back and forth. He knew he was already _gone_ but he couldn’t let his heart go there. Peter was different. They could save him. Bring him back. They had too. He couldn’t _die_ like this.   
  
They’d only gone into the bank to deposit May’s paycheque that wasn’t a_ hard _job.   
  
It’s a normal day-to-day task. A trip to the bank.   
  
You wait in line, do what you came for, and leave. It’s boring, it’s a part of life.   
  
Tony couldn’t remember how they got here. He was dazed. The world around him didn’t make any sense.  
  
The shooter’s name was Jack. He had a gun and a bomb. What he wanted was self-explanatory but it hadn’t gone according to plan. He wanted to get the money and get out before the cops arrived. Peter got in his way and paid the price for that act of heroism. Tony wasn’t quick enough. He didn’t _save_ him.  
  
“We’re gonna be alright, kid....” He muttered softly as he brushed a hand through Peter’s curls, “You and I. We’re gonna be okay.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss against his forehead, “You’ll see.”  
  
“Stop talking.” Jack threatened, pointing his gun towards Tony.  
  
“My kid is bleeding out, Jack!” Tony bellowed, “You can’t tell me what to do.”  
  
“Yes, I can…” Jack hissed, “I’m in charge.”  
  
“You’re in charge…” Tony nodded, “So, what are you gonna do now?”  
  
“Walk out of here.” He shrugged, “They won’t shoot me.” He gestured to the bomb strapped around his front, “Not with this.”   
  
“They don’t know you have the bomb.” Tony told him, “They can’t see you! So, they don’t know.”  
  
“They _do_.” Jack said, through gritted teeth, “They do know.”  
  
The front door crashed open, and a team of police stormed in, guns blazing, “No!” Tony screamed, he pulled Peter closer to his chest, as Jack flipped the switch and they were enveloped in a flash of white.

* * *

Tony burst awake, he leaned forward as he let out an exasperated sigh, he locked his hand in his hair. He was sitting in the backseat of his car. _Shit_, he couldn’t remember the last time he fell asleep like that, because he never did. When he slept, if he did at all, it was either in bed with Pepper or on the couch with his kids.   
  
If he was falling asleep in the car, then he was really _overdoing _it.   
  
He felt someone prodding him in the arm. He looked up. Peter was the _culprit_. The kid was staring at him, with wide-eyes, and a mischievous grin, “You having fun?” Tony asked, raising one eyebrow.   
  
Peter snorted as he stopped poking him, “You’re so old.”   
  
“What did you just say?”  
  
Peter’s smile grew wider, “So, you’re nodding off in the car and you’re going deaf too?”  
  
“Kid, you’re not too old to be grounded, you know?” Tony leaned forward, tapping the back of Happy’s chair, “Pull over here, please Hap. We can walk.”  
  
“Sure thing, boss.”  
  
Happy pulled the car up on the curb, Peter jumped out first, “Thanks, Happy!”  
  
“No problem, kid.”  
  
Tony playfully nudged Happy’s arm with his fist, “You’re the_ best_, Hap.” He climbed out and closed the door. Happy sped off like there was _no tomorrow_.  
  
Tony turned, wrapping an arm around Peter’s shoulders, as they headed down the street, “Why’s he not coming with us?” Peter asked.  
  
“He’s got a date…” Tony bounced his eyebrows up, “With May, remember?”  
  
“Uh, uh.” Peter squirmed away and plugged his ears with his fingers, “Shut up, _shut up_, shut up! That’s so wrong.”  
  
“Wrong?” Tony scoffed, “You already call him ‘_Uncle_’ Happy.”  
  
“Because Morgan does!” Peter exclaimed, holding out his arms to amplify his point, “It’s not an excuse to date my aunt…” He stuck out his tongue, “Eh, gross.”  
  
“They’re happy together.”  
  
A look of betrayal etched over Peter’s face, “Why would you say that?”  
  
“Okay, I’ll stop.” Tony buried his hand in his back pocket and pulled out one of his cards, he slapped it into Peter’s palm, “Here. You pick up lunch, I’m gonna grab a paper.”  
  
“Wow.” Peter backed away, “You’re so old.”  
  
Tony narrowed his eyes, “Watch it.” Peter skipped away, chuckling as he went.  
  
Tony started to walk over toward the newspaper stand but was stopped when a firm hand wrapped around his wrist, stealing his attention, “Stark.” An unknown man muttered quietly. Tony snatched his wrist back. The man looked like he was sleeping _rough_, and Tony felt guilty for pulling his hand away when the poor guy probably only wanted a few dollars. However, for Tony, being _defensive_, was an occupational hazard.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“You know me..” The guy stuttered, “Well, you should. Um, _uh,_ I’m David.” He looked over his shoulder, like he was afraid of something, “You need to go home.”  
  
Tony stifled a laugh, “Pardon?”  
  
“Go home, now.” David pleaded, “Don’t go to the bank. Grab your _son_, and come back tomorrow instead.”  
  
Tony’s heart leapt up into his throat, “How…” The public knew about Peter, but only in a professional capacity. The world thought he was simply Tony’s intern. Tony had only recently entered a co-adoption with May, but that wasn’t being made public for another week, “How do you know about Peter?”  
  
“You adopted him.”  
  
“Yes, but that’s not public until next week.” Tony hissed, “So, I’ll ask again, how do you know that?”  
  
“Just trust me.” David didn’t falter, he stood strong in his plea, “Don’t go to the bank.” He hurried away, leaving Tony with more questions than answers.  
  
Peter walked over, holding onto a singular hot dog, he’d already scoffed his own, “Who was that?”  
  
“No idea.” Tony said, Peter held out the hot dog, “You eat it, I’m not that hungry.”  
  
“Uh...okay.” Peter turned, “Come on, I’ve gotta deposit May’s cheque before she kills me.” 

Tony walked beside him, “Let’s use an ATM.” He didn’t believe David’s warning but he wanted to be cautious, “The banks gonna be rammed.” Peter tried to answer but his mouth was full, he’d demolished the hot dog like he hadn’t eaten in years. This morning, he had two stacks of pancakes that Pepper made. The kid’s metabolism was truly insane, “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”  
  
They turned the corner towards the ATM, Peter pulled the cheque out of his backpack and leaned over, pressing the side of his machine, “Eh. Out of service.” He groaned, “I thought tech would be better in 2024. Guess not.”  
  
Tony looked over his shoulder, he knew there was another machine close by, “We can see if the one around-- “ When he turned back, Peter was gone, “Kid?”  
  
“I’ll be quick!” Peter called back, he was heading up the steps, into the _bank_.   
  
Tony felt dread swallow him whole as he charged after him. “Peter!” He shouted, urgently, but with his voice low.   
  
Peter was waiting at the back of a queue, Tony stopped beside him, “Why are you being so weird?” Peter asked, tilting his head to his shoulder.  
  
“Weird?” Tony’s voice involuntary went high-pitched, “I’m not being weird.”  
  
“Yes, you are.”  
  
Tony cleared his throat, “I’m not.”  
  
“So just old, then.”  
  
Tony rolled his eyes, “No.”  
  
Peter squinted, “...Senile?”  
  
“Kid…” Tony was about to mock him in retaliation but Peter’s smile dropped, and the colour drained from his cheeks, as he frantically started looking around the room, “Hey, Peter, what’s _wrong_?” Peter looked at him, his eyes widened in alarm, “Are you okay?” Peter shook his head.  
  
“Customers, face down!” A man bellowed from beside them. He was holding a gun up, waving it around, with an inexperienced trembling hand. Some of the customers screamed, while others muttered under their breath, they all complied, getting down onto the floor, “You know what this is!” He was wearing a dark green parker, it was zipped up to the top. It was _June_, so it didn’t take Tony long to work out what he had hidden under there.   
  
Tony pushed Peter’s shoulder, “Get down, kid.” Peter listened, for once, he got down on his front, leaning his head to the side to watch on. Making sure he was ready to _jump_ in if it came to it.  
  
Tony stayed on his feet, he crushed his panic button on his watch. Alarmingly, it didn’t work. It _failed. _That was impossible unless this shooter was ridiculously clever and had a way to jam the network.  
  
“Shit.” Tony dropped to his knees and lay down beside Peter.   
  
Peter tapped his fingers on the floor in morse code. _S-P-I-D-E-R-M-A-N_. Tony shook his head in response, Peter nodded.   
  
“Money, in the bags now!” The guy screamed, “No alarms!”   
  
Tony flinched as the robber’s footsteps got closer to them. From now on, Tony would always have his nanotech suit prepared. Ever since, he retired, he never brought it out. In light of celebration, he forgot that the world was still such a dark place.   
  
“Stark.” The man roared cheerfully, he reached down, grabbing hold of Tony’s shoulder in an unforgiving grip and pulling him to his feet. He reached over, pressing his fingers into Tony’s cheeks, holding his face in his hand, “I’ve hit the jack box today, haven’t I?”  
  
“Have you?” Tony mumbled. The man released his cheeks, and Tony extended his jaw to numb the sting.  
  
“You’re retired.” The man brushed down Tony’s jacket, “No suit with you, and I’ve jammed the signals.”  
  
“Yes.” Tony raised his eyebrow, “Well done, not many people can jam my tech. I’d say almost no one. Who helped you with that?”  
  
“Like I’d tell you.”  
  
Tony turned his eyes to the side, Peter hadn’t moved yet, but he knew as soon as the man made the wrong move, the teen would be up on his feet in no time, “Okay, buddy. I’ll give you whatever you want if you let everyone go first.” The man bent down and grabbed Peter’s arm, dragging him up onto his feet, “What are you doing?  
  
“He with you?” He barked. Tony knew there were two ways to play this. The man wanted to use Peter as _leverage_, as a bargaining chip to get what he wanted. Tears filled Tony’s eyes, as he shook his head. The guy sneered, “Liar.” He locked an arm around Peter’s chest, and pressed the barrel of his gun against Peter’s temple, Tony’s stomach flipped, and he had to bite down on his lip, “You’re gonna listen to me, or the kid gets it, you hear me?”  
  
“Okay, okay.” Tony held up his hands in surrender, “I’m listening.”   
  
Tony didn’t like how calm Peter was. He was almost _emotionless_. It hurt to admit that seeing his kid, straight-faced, unafraid of a literal gun held against his head, was worse than the day he’d disappeared, begging to be saved. This was either a bravado, or Peter wasn’t scared to die anymore.   
  
Peter grabbed the man’s wrist and with an effortless swing, threw him over his shoulder, down onto the ground. Tony let out a loud squeak; when Peter wasn’t in the suit, he often forgot how strong he was. “Come on, kid.” He beckoned, holding out his hand.   
  
Peter leapt over the man, who was gagging as he forced air back into his shocked lungs. Peter looked dazed like he hadn’t expected that he could do that. It was Peter’s hazed mind, that stopped him from seeing what happened next.  
  
The man grabbed his ankle, and Peter stumbled. Tony leapt forward, reaching out, ready to ball his hand around Peter’s backpack to pull him to safety.   
  
It was too _late_. The man pulled the trigger, and the bullet hit Peter’s chest, at close range.  
  
“Peter!” Tony slid over on his knees, catching Peter in his arms, as he crumbled to the ground. “Hey, hey.” He cried out frantically, as he brushed his fingers against Peter’s cheek. Peter didn’t speak or even mummer. His eyes were half-open, and he kept blinking, _slowly_. He wasn’t with it, he was lifelessly staring down, as he desperately gasped for air, “Kid?” Tony pressed his hand against the wound, his throat cracked as blood covered his palm, “Kid, look at me, please_._”   
  
The man got back onto his feet, cocking his gun, holding it in Tony’s direction.   
  
Tony wanted to kill him but knew he had a duty. An oath Peter had taught him when they first met. _When you can do the things that I can, but you don't...and then the bad things happen...they happen because of you. _Tony had two jobs, keep Peter alive, and save everyone else in that room. He wasn’t going to do that with violence.  
  
Tony looked up, “So, what’s your name?” He asked as he stroked his fingers through Peter’s hair, “I’ve gotta call you something.”  
  
“Jack.”  
  
“Okay, Jack.” Tony spoke gently as if he was talking to a rebellious child, “He’s still alive but I’ve gotta get him out of here. You don’t wanna be a killer, do you? You just need cash.”  
  
Jack gritted his teeth, “You know nothing about needing cash.”  
  
“Perhaps _not_. But I can help you, if let me save my kid, please.” He pleaded, blinking tears away as he rocked forward. Jack said nothing. “Did you blip, Jack?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“And life is different now, isn’t it?” He asked, “Everything feels wrong. Out of place.”  
  
Jack stepped forward, shaking his gun, “You don’t know what it’s like!”  
  
“This is Peter.” Tony said hastily, as he pressed his fingers against Peter’s neck, “He’s my kid. He blipped, and I...I only just got him back. I don’t wanna lose him again.” He choked on a sob, “Have you got someone you love? Someone you can’t lose.”  
  
“My best friend.”  
  
“Best friend, hey? I’ve got two of those, James Rhodes and Happy Hogan.” He smiled falsely, to give Jack a sense of security, “They’re _great._ I bet your friend is great too. Would he be happy…” He trailed off, “..If he knew you were doing this?”  
  
“I’m doing this for him.” Jack spat, “He needs…”  
  
“Help. I can help him.” Tony promised, “If you let everyone go.”  
  
“No!” Jack unzipped his parker, revealing the bomb strapped around his front, “No one _leaves!_  
  
“Okay, okay.” Tony strained as he went back to threading his fingers through Peter’s hair. “Peter’s only seventeen, and he’s got a best friend too, Ned, who loves him very much.” He explained, “You understand that, don’t you, Jack? How much you love your best friend?”  
  
Jack jumped around, throwing a tantrum. Tony had obviously hit a nerve, “Shut up!”  
  
“Tony…” Peter choked out.  
  
An invisible weight hit Tony’s chest, stealing his breath, as he looked down at his kid, “Hey, _baby_. You’re alright.” A gut-wrenching gargle escaped passed Peter’s lips as Tony bounced him, back and forth, “Pete?” Peter’s eyes rolled back, and he grew limp in Tony’s grip, “Kid?”   
  
At first, Peter’s breathing was unrhythmic and _violent,_ then his breaths grew longer, but further between. The violence quickly slipped away, replaced by two peaceful breaths, and then, there was only _silence._  
  
“Peter?” Tony whimpered, he cupped his cheek, “Please don’t do this to me, bud.” He brushed his fingers through Peter’s curls, “We’re gonna be alright, kid...You and I. We’re gonna be okay.” He pressed a kiss against his forehead, “You’ll see.”  
  
“Stop talking.” Jack spat.  
  
“My kid is bleeding out, Jack! Don’t you fucking tell me what to do.”   
  
“I’m in charge!”  
  
“You’re in charge…” Tony shouted, “So, what are you gonna do now then?”  
  
“Walk out of here. They won’t shoot me.”   
  
“They don’t know you have the bomb! And you’ve jammed the signals, so they can’t call! They don’t know what your plan is!”  
  
“They _do_. They do know.”  
  
The front door crashed open, and a team of police stormed in, guns blazing. Jack flipped the switch, and Tony welcomed the darkness that followed. 

* * *

Tony shot awake, gasping for air. He was in the car on the way into town, with Happy and Peter. _Yeah,_ he was seriously overdoing it lately.  
  
“Are you okay?” Peter queried, nudging Tony’s shoulder, with concern reflected in his eyes.   
  
“Yeah…” Tony nodded, “I’m fine.”  
  
Peter snorted a laugh, “You’re so….” His face crumpled, and he dotted his eyes to the floor.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Sorry…” Peter chuckled, “...That was weird.”  
  
“What was?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Peter shrugged, “Just a sense of Déjà vu.”  
  
“I get you, kid.” Happy commented, “Every time I drive you two around it’s a sense of Déjà vu.”  
  
“Very funny, Hap.” Tony said, monotone, “Pull over here, please. We can walk.”  
  
“Sure thing.” Happy pulled up onto the curb.  
  
“Thanks, Happy!” Peter leapt out of the car, Tony followed swiftly behind. Peter let out a gentle coo and skipped over to a dog that had been left tied to a lamppost outside a newsagent, “Aw, _hello._ What’s your name?” He asked as he knelt, the dog jumped up, greeting Peter excitedly.   
  
“Stark.” A man muttered as he tapped Tony’s shoulder.  
  
“Do I know you?” The question sounded foreign in Tony’s mouth because he did know him, he just didn’t know _why._   
  
“No.” The man sighed, “Whatever you do, don’t let your son go into the bank today.”  
  
He hurried away, as quickly as he appeared, “What?” How did he know that Peter was his son? That wasn’t public knowledge yet, “Hey!”  
  
“Who was that?” Peter asked, reappearing at his side.  
  
“I don’t know.” Tony turned, and unzipped Peter’s backpack, taking out May’s cheque.  
  
“What are you doing?” Peter asked as Tony zipped the bag back up.   
  
“You go and get lunch.” Tony handed over his card, “I’ll deposit this and meet you outside.”  
  
Peter bounced back on his heel, “Cool beans.”   
  
“Cool, what now?” Tony asked as Peter skipped away, “Huh, teenagers.”  
  
Tony cautiously walked up the stairs into the bank. He didn’t know why he was on _edge_ but something was happening, something he couldn’t _explain_. Peter was right, it felt like Déjà vu. Tony joined the back of the queue and his mind turned to the man outside. _How did he know Peter was his son? And why didn’t he want Peter to go into the bank? Why did Tony recognize him? _Nothing was making any sense.  
  
“Everyone on the floor now!” A man ordered from behind. He had a gun, he was inexperiencedly waving it around. He had a bomb too, Tony could tell by the parker he was wearing.“You know what this is!”Tony wasn’t shocked, not as much as he should be. He knew this was going to happen, _how did he know that?_  
  
“Shit.” Tony cursed under his breath when he realised his panic button didn’t work.  
  
“Stark?” The man sneered, he strode over, keeping the gun held up. “If I knew you were here, I wouldn’t have done this.” He gestured to the room, civilians were down on the ground, while the bankers were stood, waiting to be ordered around.  
  
“You’ve got me.” Tony told him, “Why don’t you and I get out of here? I can give you everything you want if you let all these people go.”  
  
“No.”

“I’m offering you...anything you want,” Tony said. The man didn’t react, “What’s your name?”

“Jack.”  
  
“Okay, Jack. What do you want?”  
  
Jack raised his eyebrows, and grinned, “I think you know.”  
  
“Money? Of course.” Tony clapped his hands together, “Let everyone go, and we can talk.”  
  
Jack stepped back, “What is that?” He gestured to Tony’s prosthetic arm with his gun.  
  
“This.” Tony pulled the sleeve down. Jack recoiled. Tony knew why, the arm was painted the same colour as the Iron Man armour, it would look pretty intimidating to a criminal.   
  
“Take it off!” Jack barked.  
  
“I can’t. It’s not part of a suit. It’s a prosthetic arm.” Tony explained, “I lost it in the final battle. Do you know that? And my kid’s designed it, that’s why it looks like this. It’s harmless.”

“Take--”  
  
The door swung open, and Peter walked in, holding a paper bag with their lunch in. He had his earplugs in, he used them to drown out sounds when he was experiencing sensory overload. It meant that his fight or flight reflect was dampened, he hadn’t sensed the _danger _when he entered.  
  
Tony leapt forward in an attempt to disarm Jack, but he was too late. Jack pulled the _trigger_.   
  
Tony heard Peter’s lifeless body hit the floor before he turned to see, “Peter…”   
  
Peter was curled up on the floor, his lifeless eyes stared forward. Blood poured from underneath his head.  
  
Tony pressed his arm to his mouth as he retched, “Peter!”   
  
Jack turned back, wide-eyed, “What?” Tony stumbled over to where Peter lay. “No.” Tony looked over his shoulder as Jack unzipped his jacket to reveal the bomb underneath.  
  
“He’s got a bomb..” Tony muttered like a mantra, “He’s got a bomb, he’s got a bomb.”  
  
Jack flipped the switch.

* * *

Tony jumped awake. He was safe, in the back of his car, with Happy and Peter, “Woah, Mr. Stark.” Peter held out his hand grabbing his shoulder, “You okay? You fell asleep. You know, like an old man.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess I did.” He rubbed his temple, “Wow, I’m overdoing it.” He tapped the back of Happy’s chair, “Pull over here, Hap. We can walk.”  
  
“Okay, Boss.” Happy pulled over.  
  
Peter opened the door, and bounced out, “Thanks, Happy! See you later.”  
  
“See you, kid.”  
  
Tony jumped out, he stopped Peter by placing a hand on his shoulder. He quickly unzipped Peter’s backpack and took out May’s cheque. Peter turned around, with a raised eyebrow, “I’ll take this to the bank. You go and save us a table at McDonald's.”  
  
“...Alright.” Peter turned and hurried away.   
  
Tony headed over towards the bank, a man reached out, grabbing his arm, “Stark.”  
  
“It’s you.” _Why did he say that?_ He’d never met this man before, or had he?  
  
The man’s jaw dropped, “You know me?”  
  
“I…” Tony trailed off, “...Think so. Don’t know why though.”  
  
“I’m David.” He introduced as he released Tony’s arm “We do know each other, we’ve spoken every day, for the past four-hundred-and-thirty-six days.” He explained, “This day. _Today._ It’s never tomorrow. It’s always today.” He pointed over to the bank, “You and Peter go into the bank every time, and you both die. My best friend, Jack, he kills you. Every time. No matter what I say. Sometimes you listen, but you go in anyway. Play _hero_. Other times, you’ve told me to beat it.”  
  
Tony’s forehead creased, “How can I trust you? You could be making this all up.”  
  
“But you know me.” David told him, “It’s getting inside your head like it’s in mine.”  
  
“I need proof.”  
  
“Your son.” David sighed, “Did he bring his suit with him? It’s in his backpack, right?”  
  
Tony stepped back in horror, “What?”  
  
“It’s taken me so long to figure it out.” He admitted, “Why would you adopt some random kid from Queens? I worked it out, he’s Spider-Man. You met because you’re both heroes.”  
  
Tony’s blood boiled, “If you ever lay…” He couldn’t tell if this man was truly trying to help him, or if he was threatening Peter. He knew who Peter was, that made him dangerous, right?   
  
“I won’t.” David interrupted, “I just want this to be over.” He pointed to a car parked on the sidewalk, “I’m going to get in my car, if you want to know more, just ask.”   
  
Tony watched him walk away. Curiosity twisted its spindly fingers around his wrist, and pulled him away, into the _bank_. He hovered in the doorway taking in the scene. He noticed a man, hunched over the desk, scribbling down on a piece of paper. Tony didn’t know why he knew but that was Jack.   
  
“He’s got a bomb, he’s got a bomb, he’s got a bomb,” Tony muttered.   
  
Faint outlines of memories Tony shouldn’t have crossed his mind, and he hurried back outside, scrambling for his phone.   
  
“_Tony? What’s up?_” Peter answered with his usual exuberance  
  
“Listen to me, kid.” Tony said, urgently, “This isn’t gonna make any sense but I need you to put your suit on."  
  
“_What, why?”_  
  
“Just listen, please. Put the suit on. On the road Happy dropped us off on, there’s an old car...a Volvo, I think. It’s _rusty_, looks like it’s falling apart. There’s a guy in there, grab him, and bring him to the bank with you.”  
  
_“I don’t…” _Peter blurted_, “...understand.”_  
  
“Just do it, okay?” Tony pleaded, “He’ll know what it’s about.”  
  
“_Okay, I’ll be there as quick as I can._” He heard Peter hurrying around, “_Love you._”  
  
“Love you too.” Tony hung up and skipped back into the bank.   
  
He cautiously walked over to where Jack was stood, he placed his hand on the desk, and Jack flinched, looking up at him with piercing eyes, “Jack, right? You know who I am, and I know who you are.” He started, “I don’t want anyone in here to get hurt.” He gestured to the door, “If you walk out of that door, right now, I won’t come after you. You have my _word_. Change your mind, you’re better than this.”  
  
“I am this.”  
  
Tony shook his head, “You don’t have to be.”  
  
“There is no other way.” Jack turned, holding up his gun, “Everybody down! Now! You know what this is!”  
  
Everyone screamed, and threw themselves to the ground, doing what he said.  
  
Tony heard the door creak open. Peter rushed in, hidden behind the Spider-Man costume, with David by his side.  
  
“Jack!” Tony called, “Ask him!” He gestured to David, “What does he think?”  
  
“David.” Jack breathed, shocked, “Get out of here, now!”  
  
“You’re hurting him, you know?” Tony barked, “Everything you’re doing. He’s lived this day, over and over again. We all have. Hundreds of times, and we all die. If you loved him...you wouldn’t keep doing this.”  
  
“Shut up.” Jack spat, “Stop...talking…”  
  
Peter shot out a web, and it attached to Jack's wrist, he tugged on him. Jack was quick, unzipping his parker to reveal the bomb.  
  
Tony held out a cautious hand, “Spider-Man, stand down.”  
  
Jack pulled on the web, dragging Peter closer, “What are you gonna do now, Spidey?” He asked, “We don’t need people like you anymore! This city needs people like _me_! Who fight for the people we love.”  
  
“You don’t love me, Jack…” David sighed, tears swimming in his eyes, “If you do this. You say we’re like brothers but Stark’s right...You’ve made Stark watched his kid die hundreds of times!” Peter turned, Tony couldn’t see his face past the mask, but he could imagine the horror in his eyes, “This isn’t you.”   
  
“I’m doing this for you!” Jack screamed.  
  
David shook his head, “I don’t want you too.”   
  
“Tough…” Jack turned his gun in Tony’s direction and pulled the trigger. David leapt in front, the bullet hit his chest and he fell to the ground, boneless.  
  
Tony hurried to his side, as Jack fell to his knees, dropping his gun. Peter webbed his hands behind his back, as Tony rolled David over, “Hey.”  
  
“This never happened before.” David choked out, his eyes rolled back, and his body stilled.  
  
Tony looked up at Peter, with teary-eyes, because he _remembered_.  
  
He knew he shouldn’t but he did. _Every day, every hour, every second_. He watched his kid die over four hundred times and that's enough to drive anyone insane.

* * *

Tony found Peter, out of his suit, sat on a wall, a few streets down from where everything happened. “Hey, kid.” He tugged on his shoulders dragging him into a hug. He rubbed circles against his back, “How are you doing?”  
  
“Okay.” Peter squeaked, Tony, leaned back to look him in the eye, “You?”  
  
“I’m okay too.” He hopped up onto the wall, Peter leaned against his side, holding his arm.  
  
“So, we were in a time loop?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Peter brushed away tears with the back of his hand, “And you figured it out?”  
  
“I think we all did….” Tony sighed, “In a way.”  
  
“Yeah, something felt off.” Peter agreed, “How long were we in it?”  
  
“About a year and a half.”  
  
“Wow.” Peter sighed, in disbelief, “How did he do it? David. How did he turn back time?”  
  
“He was inhuman.” Tony dipped his chin to his chest, “He just didn’t know it. The loop broke when he died.”   
  
“It’s not your fault, you know?” Peter squeezed his arm as he tucked his head against his collarbone.  
  
“I know,” Tony sniffled, “You... _died_.”  
  
“Not really.” Peter reassured him, “I’m still here, aren’t I?”  
  
“Yeah.” Tony pressed a kiss against Peter's hair, “Let’s keep it that way, hey?”

* * *

"_Can't I just turn back the clock?_  
_Forgive my sins_  
_I just wanna roll my sleeves up_  
_And start again._"  
**\- Start Again, OneRepublic.**


	6. Dragged Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter, Tony and Morgan are enjoying their weekly picnic but the day turns sour when General Ross arrives to arrest Peter.

Every Saturday, Peter joined the Starks for a picnic by the lake.   
  
Their perfect spot was a ten-minute walk from the house or a three-minute swing.   
  
Pepper had been dragged into work for mandatory meetings, which meant it was a party of three instead of the usual four.   
  
Peter sat with his legs dangling over the edge of the bank, his bare feet hovered inches away from the water. He fumbled with his web-shooters, firing practice shots into the lake. It was a new and approved formula, and it needed testing before he could take it out into the field.   
  
“Petey…” Morgan waddled over, kneeling by his side, “Can I try?”  
  
Peter looked at her, smiling, “Of course.” He clicked one of them off his wrist and carefully wrapped it around hers, the nanotech modified itself, so that it fit her perfectly.  
  
She stared at it, with wide-eyes, “Cool.”  
  
“What’s going on over here, then?” Tony walked over, sitting down next to Peter, “I feel left out.”   
  
Morgan held up her wrist, parading the web-shooter, “I’m gonna be Spider-_Woman_!” Peter snorted a proud laugh, it seemed all the time that she’d been spending with MJ was starting to pay off.   
  
“Now…” Tony’s eyebrows raised in alarm, “That’s a_ scary _thought.”  
  
Peter rolled his eyes, “You wanna see how they work, Morgs?”  
  
“Yes, please!”  
  
“So…” Peter held out his arm, “Hold your hand out, like this.” Morgan mimicked his stance, “That’s it.” Peter hovered his fingers over the trigger, “And then, you press this button, in the middle…” He pressed down, and a web grenade flew into the centre of the lake, “Now, you try.”  
  
Morgan laughed, excitedly; she pushed the button and a web grenade shot out, landing a little short of where Peter’s had, “Wow!”  
  
“It’s fun, isn’t it?”  
  
“Yeah.” Morgan nodded enthusiastically, “But...I don’t wanna be a superhero when I grow up.”   
  
“No?”   
  
“No, I want to be an astronaut. I wanna go into space!” She flew her arms out to emphasise her joyousness, “Like Nebby and Auntie Carol!”  
  
“An astronaut, hey?” Peter grinned, he reached forward brushing her hair out of her eyes, “That sounds amazing, munchkin.”   
  
“You’ve been to space, haven’t you?”   
  
Peter felt his stomach give out, it was a seemingly innocent and simple question, which contrasted against the heaviness of the weighted answer.   
  
Peter died in space. _Well_, he blipped. That was a ridiculous name for it but it’s what the world went for. He disappeared from reality for five years and came back to a changed world, one where he suddenly had a little sister, who he loved with all his heart straight away.   
  
Also, America had elected their first female president, and Apple Inc went bankrupt and was brought out by Stark Industries. Peter didn’t know why they were the two things that came to mind first, but to be fair, he was trying to suppress a looming panic attack.  
  
“Kid?” Tony cautiously brushed his fingers against Peter’s hand, “You okay?”  
  
“I’m good.” Peter breathed, “Yeah, Morgs, I’ve been to space before.”  
  
“Daddy doesn’t talk about it that much.” Morgan said, unsurely, “That’s where you…”  
  
Peter let out a hesitant breath, he didn’t want Morgan to tread on glass when it came to talking about the blip. She had a right to be curious. She’d been born into an empty world and then one day, those they mourned, came back. She met Peter, who until then had been a fairytale. A story that helped her sleep at night. He was part of her life now, and as fantastical as that was, it was confusing for someone so young. She grew up thinking that her big brother had died_,_ and she would never get the chance to meet him. The snap gave her a warped view of what death was, and she, and many others her age had to be taught the difference between people who die and those who had blipped.  
  
“It’s okay.” He moved away from the bank, and knelt in front of her, taking her hands, “Space is where I blipped, it was very scary but Dad was there and he made me feel safe.” Tony jumped to his feet and stifled a cry as he looked away from the pair. Peter moved his trembling hand and brushed Morgan's cheek, “Space was pretty cool though, and you’d love it.”  
  
“You won’t... blip again, will you?”  
  
“No.” He shook his head, “You don’t have to worry, Morgs.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead, “I’m _not _going anywhere.”  
  
The hairs on Peter’s arm stood on end, he bounced to his feet and took Morgan’s hand.  
  
In the distance, he could hear the familiar hum of a Quinjet. It got louder as it flew closer, casting a shadow over them as it circled, trying to find the right space to touch down.  
  
“Who is that?” Peter shouted to Tony, over the chaos, “Are you expecting someone?”  
  
“No.” Tony shook his head, he squinted to get a better look, “_Shit_.”  
  
He twirled on his heel and hurried to their sides. With shaking hands, he grabbed Peter’s wrist and tore off the singular web-shooter. He did the same, taking the other one from Morgan. He frantically looked around as he was looking for somewhere to hide them, he shot Peter a sympathetic look as he tossed them into the lake.   
  
Peter’s eyes widened in shock and bemusement, “Hey!”  
  
“We can fish them out later.” Tony’s throat cracked, “You have to trust me.” He got down on his knees, grabbing Peter’s arm, and pressing his free hand against Morgan’s cheek, “Don’t say anything about Spider-Man, okay?”   
  
“Okay.” They replied simultaneously.  
  
The Quinjet landed and the deafening sound of the engines died down.   
  
Peter was more than _confused_, and he needed answers.   
  
Whoever this was, couldn’t know that he was Spider-Man.   
  
Whoever this was, _scared_ Tony.  
  
The ramp dropped down and three men descended down. One of which, Peter recognized immediately. _General Thaddeus Ross. _The man who hated the Avengers and everything they stood for. Tony had worked with him in the past because he was obliged to, during the Accords dilemma. Tony agreed with the Accords, so did Peter, but Ross, _well_ he was a separate issue.  
  
“Stay here,” Tony told them, as he moved forward, closing the gap between him and Ross.  
  
Morgan grabbed Peter’s leg and hid behind it, “It’s okay, Morgs.”   
  
“Ross!” Tony put up a bravado as he skipped over, “It’s nice of you to _drop_ by!” He gestured his hand back, “But, could you come back sometime--”  
  
“Let’s skip the formalities, Stark.” Ross snapped, “I’m not here for a catch-up.”  
  
“Oh, I thought you’d missed me.”   
  
Peter took an unconscious step back, pulling Morgan with him, when Ross’ two goons started to walk towards them.  
  
“Wait….” Tony turned around, panicked, “Where are you going?” He sprinted over, “Hey, hey, hey--” Putting himself between the goons and his kids, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”   
  
“Games over, Stark.” Ross hissed as he stepped closer, “We know.”  
  
“Know what?” Tony spat, as he held out his arms, shielding Peter and Morgan, “That I’m a retired man having a picnic with my kids? Because that’s exactly what I’m doing.”  
  
“Don’t play dumb, Stark, it doesn’t suit you.” Ross scolded, “Parker is _not_ your kid.”  
  
Indescribable anger crossed Tony’s face, he leaned forward until he was almost nose-to-nose with Ross, up in the face, “Say that again…” He raged, “I dare you.”  
  
“Spider-Man can’t hide behind you anymore.”  
  
“Spider-Man isn’t here, you’re stuck with me.” Tony threatened, “And anyway, he’s under my protection. Those special measures were implemented by King T’Challa himself...” Peter remembered when he was added to the Accords back in 2017, it allowed him to keep being Spider-Man, with a secret identity. He was under Tony’s safety net, which _terrifyingly_ meant his mentor was responsible for every action he made.  
  
“Your ridiculously special measures have been overruled.” Ross sneered, “Parker doesn’t need protection. Not when he can bench over three-thousand tonnes. He’s_ inhuman _and has powers he doesn’t understand. That makes him a threat.”  
  
“A threat?” Tony barked a false laugh, “From where I stand, that’s you.”   
  
“We can do this the easy way…” Ross offered, “Or the hard way, Stark.” Peter huffed, and rolled his eyes, that was almost _too_ cliché.   
  
“I’m not letting you take _my_ kid.”  
  
Ross nodded, “Hard way then.”  
  
Peter’s stomach lunged and he held out his hand, “Tony!”  
  
Ross pressed a device against Tony’s neck, shocking him. Tony cried out as he collapsed to his knees.  
  
“Dad--!” Morgan cried as Peter screamed out, “Tony!”  
  
“D...on’t…” Tony gasped out, as he clutched his chest, “Yo..u _da..re_…”  
  
Ross nodded his head forward, and his goons moved, to take Peter.  
  
Peter had two choices, let them take him or fight back. The latter was dangerous because if he lashed out, Morgan was in the firing line. He would also prove Ross right. That he was a _threat_, something to be feared.   
  
His throat tightened, as he loosened his hold on Morgan, stepping away, leaving her standing alone. She stared up at him, with bloodshot eyes, “Petey..” She tried to grab his jacket but he moved away, shaking his head.  
  
“Kid…” Tony cried out, trying to move, “No…”   
  
One of the men wrapped a strong arm around Peter’s front and pulled him away.  
  
“No!” Morgan stood her ground, storming forward; she repeatedly kicked the man in the shin, while punching his arm wrapped around Peter’s stomach, “Let go!” She tried to pry his fingers back, “Get off him!”  
  
The other man advanced, grabbing Morgan’s wrist, he forcefully pulled her back.  
  
Peter saw red, and he dug his heels into the dirt, “Don’t _touch_ her.”  
  
Ross’ eyes glistened, he smirked, “Was that a threat, Parker?”  
  
Morgan tried to break free, “Let him go!”  
  
Peter knew he’d regret it but screw it, they were hurting his sister. He lifted his legs and elbowed his capturer in the face, knocking him off-kilter. He launched forward, punching the other assailant in the face, which freed Morgan from his grasp.  
  
Peter crouched down, taking her arm. They didn’t have much time, “It’s okay.”  
  
“Petey…” She cried.  
  
He kissed her temple, as one of the men grabbed him by his shoulders, dragging him away from her, “I love you!”   
  
Tony leapt to his feet, he faltered, _weak_. Peter was sure he wasn’t meant to be on his feet, but he managed to fight back the pain, “Peter!”  
  
“Tony!”  
  
Tony charged towards them, grabbing hold of Peter’s arm, he leaned in, close, “Don’t be scared…” The other goon locked his arm around Tony, trying to pull him away, “I’ll get you out... I _promise_.”  
  
Something pricked Peter’s neck and darkness swallowed him whole.

* * *

Peter believed Tony’s promise. Tony had never let him down before and he wasn’t going to start now.   
  
It had been twenty-six days. Almost a month in hell.  
  
He was in the R.A.F.T, he recognized it from Tony’s haunting descriptions.  
  
He was the only prisoner in his section. The other cells were _empty._ He couldn’t use his powers to break free because there was something built into the walls that dampened them. He wouldn’t try and escape, he knew his family, the people he loved, were doing everything they could to get him out.  
  
He knew that Tony hadn’t slept in _weeks_.   
  
May and Pepper would act strong, and level-headed, but would end up calling each other out for it.  
  
Happy and Rhodey would be the ones who acted head-strong and got their hands dirty where they could, but they were probably as equally as concerned.   
  
He expected that in her confusion and worry, Morgan would latch onto Ned and MJ, and vice versa.  
  
Peter hadn’t seen or spoken to anyone since he was dragged away from Tony and Morgan. The only human contact he got were the three meals posted through his door each day, but even then, he only saw their hands.   
  
He’d never realised how those with powers were treated until now. He technically wasn’t _inhuman _but he understood them, they didn’t choose their powers and neither did he, so why were people like him, who were trying to do the right thing with abilities they didn’t want, treated like cattle?’  
  
He wanted to get out.   
  
Most days, he was a panic attack wrapped in a pale blue jail uniform. And then others, he just sat there, counting down the hours because Tony was _coming_, he knew he was.  
  
“Where is he?”  
  
Peter was curled in the corner of his cell, cuddling his knees to his chest. Due to his imprisoners not understanding his super metabolism, he’d lost a considerable amount of weight, he was vulnerable to every element.   
  
He was _cold_, all the time.   
  
He struggled to string a sentence together with falling victim to a violent coughing fit.   
  
He couldn’t stop his hands from trembling.  
  
Sounds, like feet scraping across the floor above, were somehow distant and up close, all at the same time.   
  
His powers were unreliable due to the dampeners, but he’d never heard a voice before. Not until today.  
  
“WHERE IS HE?!”   
  
Peter sat up, he cleared his pained throat with a forced cough, “Tony…” He rasped as he stumbled out of his seat and limped to the cell door, “Tony!” He smashed his fist against the glass, “Tony!”   
  
“Mr. Stark, we are so…” A new frantic voice called.  
  
“Cut the bullshit!” Tony screamed, “Where is _my_ kid?”  
  
“Tony…” Peter sobbed, kicking and punching the glass, feebly, as he had no strength left to use, “Tony....” He flipped around, looking at the security camera in the corner, “Let me out, I know you can hear me!” He hit the door with his shoulder, “Let me out…”  
  
“Peter!” Tony’s voice was getting _closer_. Peter could hear his footsteps closing in.  
  
Peter pressed his head against the glass as he made as much noise as he could, like a toddler throwing a tantrum, but he didn’t care, he needed Tony to hear him, “Tony!”  
  
Tony burst into the room, desperately searching each cell for Peter. The time spent apart had aged him, he had patches of grey hair, his shoulders were slumped, and the skin under his eyes was bruised, from all his sleepless nights. Like Peter, he looked as if he could keel over at any given second.   
  
Peter’s eyes widened in shock when he saw Tony, he punched the door, “To_ny_!”  
  
Tony stopped in his tracks, “Kid?” He uttered, he beelined for his cell, and started to pull on the handle, it didn’t budge. He turned, to the man who’d entered alongside him, “Open this fucking door, right now!”  
  
Peter heard a faint click when the door was unlocked, Tony yanked it open, almost tearing it off its hinges, “Tony--” He sobbed as he collapsed into his open arms.   
  
“Oh, okay, _okay_.” Tony gently guided him down to his knees and held him close in his arms, “I got you. I’m so _sorry_…”  
  
“Mr. Stark?” The unknown man said warily.  
  
“I’m getting this place shut down.” Tony said through gritted teeth, “Do you hear me?!”   
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
Tony ran a hand down Peter’s back, and turned his head back, “Did you even feed him? The kid’s all skin and bone!”  
  
“Yes, yes...of course.”  
  
“Fast…” Peter muttered into Tony’s shoulder, “..Meta..liosim.”   
  
Tony pressed a kiss against his cheek as he got up onto his feet, Peter followed with him, gripping onto his forearms as tightly as he could, “Let’s get you out of here, kid.” Peter fell forward, boneless, nestling his head against Tony’s collarbone, “Hey, hey..” Tony scooped Peter into his arms like he’d usually do with Morgan, “I got you.”  
  
“Sorry,” Peter mumbled sleepily.  
  
“Don’t sweat it.” Tony eased as he walked out of the room. Peter made himself as small as he possibly could in his arms as they headed out of the R.A.F.T towards the helipad.  
  
Tony sat Peter in the corner and took a seat next to him. Peter tucked his head on his chest, while Tony pulled him close, getting him safe.  
  
“What happened? I thought..” Peter asked, “...I thought I was allowed to be Spider-Man.”  
  
“You are, you always will be, kid.” Tony muttered softly, “The Agreement was drawn up way back in 2017, the one that makes me responsible and liable for your actions. You remember that?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“This...was my fault.” Tony blurted, Peter sniffled as he shook his head, “Ross did this to spite me. You see, when he took you, he was about two weeks away from being fired, partly because of a formal complaint that I filed against him. He caught wind of that... and wanted me to retract what I’d said. So…”  
  
Peter blinked away his tears, “He took me.”  
  
“He made it look legal..too. He has people on the inside, you see?” Tony sighed, “They found a stupid flaw in the Accords, and he took advantage. You were _gone_ for five years, kid.” His throat cracked, and he locked his fingers around Peter’s wrist, “Which means all the dates were messed up on the agreement, that gave him a loophole that he needed to imprison you here.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Tony brushed his fingers through Peter’s unruly curls, “He was still in the wrong though. He won't do this again...” His voice wavered, “ It took us so long to get you out because we had to prove that he was guilty. I was gonna break you out but _apparently,_ that would have made matters worse.”  
  
“It’s okay.” Peter reassured him, “You’re here.”  
  
“I should have been here sooner.”  
  
“Not your fault.” Peter settled into Tony’s grasp as the helicopter started to take flight, “Where are we going?”  
  
“Home.” Tony answered, “We're going home."

* * *

"_And even if you slip away_  
_I'll be there to fall into the dark_  
_To chase your heart_  
_No distance could ever tear us apart_  
_There's nothing that I wouldn't do_  
_I'll find my way back to you_."  
**\- Find My Way Back To You, Eric Arjes. **


	7. Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter fantasised about free-falling. Not as Spider-Man, that was different. If he fell as a hero, he caught himself because that was in his job description. This fantasy was different. He dreamed of falling, and that was it. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: Indirect mentions of suicide and depression throughout (Be cautious, my loves!)

It’s not healthy.   
  
The way Peter’s mind works.   
  
He’s not stupid, he knows he’s not okay.   
  
His mind is an open wound. Every little thing that goes wrong is like pouring salt on the injury.  
  
Bad luck followed him everywhere, it loomed over every decision he made, so the wound never got the chance it needed to heal.   
  
He was selfish, _right_? That’s what he thought, but he was sure everyone he loved would have one million defensive things to say if he ever found the strength to admit how he was feeling. They’d tell him that he needed help and they would always be there for him every step of the way. He’d love them for every word they’d say and every promise they’d make, but it was sentiments like that, that made him feel _selfish_.   
  
Everything in his life had fallen into place, and every dream he’d ever had had came true.  
  
He had Ned. His best friend, who would go to extreme and somewhat dangerous lengths, just to make Peter smile. 

And, MJ. His ridiculously intelligent and witty girlfriend, who seemed rough around the edges, with a blunt bravado, but together, they simply melted.  
  
There was Happy and Rhodey. His two overprotective uncles, who would do anything for him, that included hiding a body.  
  
_Of course,_ there was May. His aunt who was also, his mum, in more ways than one, she had and would keep sacrificing everything she had, for him.   
  
He had Pepper. His other mum, _so to speak_, who welcomed him into her life with open arms, and loved him.  
  
There was Morgan. His little sister, who looked at him in awe every single day, like he’s the one who knows all the secrets of the universe.  
  
_Finally_, there was Tony. His father-figure, the one who discovered time travel in a single evening, so he’d have the chance to bring Peter home.   
  
_He did just that._ Peter wasn’t sure if he was worth the hassle.  
  
They were his family, and they would hold onto him and stop him from falling, even if that meant sacrificing their time or well-being. _Yes_, Peter could latch onto them for help but would feel like he was_ using_ them to fix himself.   
  
They had their own lives to live and problems to deal with. _Who was he to stand in their way_?  
  
He should have been grateful, he should appreciate that he is loved. He wasn’t _okay_, this couldn’t be healthy because even surrounded by his family, he felt _empty_.   
  
He pulled them down when he was like this. He didn’t deserve them, not after all the mistakes he had made. Not when he was out of the loop, in a changed world. Everything moves forward, but he doesn’t. He can’t.  
  
He_ tried_. He really did.  
  
He fantasised about free-falling. Not as Spider-Man, that was different. If he fell as a hero, he caught himself because that was in his job description. This fantasy was different. He dreamed of falling, and that was _it_. There was no punchline. He would just fall. He wouldn’t swing himself to safety and no one would be there to catch him.  
  
This was not healthy. He’s not okay but the thought is there, at the back of his mind, every day. The idea of letting go, and it would be over, _right_?

He knew they would miss him, but everything would turn out all right in the end, because they all had each other, and Peter wouldn’t be around to dampen the mood.

_No_, this wasn’t okay. Peter wasn’t okay and he knew that, but he didn't know how to stop feeling like this.  
  
Peter spent hours every day planning how he would say goodbye to those he loved in a way that they wouldn't what he was planning to do.  
  
For Ned, he would throw a Star Wars party, where they’d spent a weekend watching every single movie.  
  
He’d sit with MJ on the edge of a skyscraper, he would probably fall asleep, with his head rested against her shoulder, while she spent the time doodling in her sketchbook.  
  
He’d have one of his monthly top-secret lunches with Rhodey and Happy, where they spent their time teasing Tony.  
  
For May, he would set aside a weekend to watch classical musicals, they’d clumsily dance and attempt to hold a tune together.   
  
He would spend an entire afternoon talking to Pepper, about anything and everything. Whenever they got together, they gossiped like highschoolers.   
  
For Morgan, he’d play the day away, making sure she would have the time of her life and their memories wouldn’t be tainted by his potential choice.  
  
His _final _night would be with Tony, they’d watch some mediocre film, and he’d fall asleep, with his head rested against Tony’s chest, spending one last moment, safely held in his arms.   
  
His family weren’t stupid, they knew something was _wrong. _He’d started to hide away. He spoke less and never _laughed_ unless it was false.   
  
Tony and May had spoken to him. He was scheduled to talk to a therapist but he didn’t want to go, he didn’t want to admit how he felt, even to a stranger, who was obliged not to tell anyone what was said. However, they could, if they found that he was a risk to his own _life_. The problem was, with all the conflicting thoughts rushing through his mind, he _was_.  
  
Everyone thought he was isolating himself because he was struggling to settle in the aftermath of the blip. They thought that because that’s what he told them. He lied to an _extent_, so they wouldn’t see all the other problems buried underneath. The blip was a factor but he didn’t care about that anymore.  
  
His true struggle was he couldn’t wrap his head around the complexity of breathing. _Why is it so hard? Why did it hurt?_ It’s an instinct. Every living creature breathes. There’s nothing complicated about that.  
  
So, why did he feel like he was drowning? Every breath he took, he was swallowing ocean water, and it didn’t matter how hard he tried to reach the surface, his hand always slipped.  
  
If he fell, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard anymore.  
  
The truth is, he didn’t want to go. _Not really_. He needed everything to stop, for a second, so he could see where he was going wrong. He needed to be pulled out of the ocean to the safety of the shore.   
  
It was almost two in the morning and like most nights, he hadn’t slept a _wink_. He was staying at the Lake House for the weekend. Thanks to his abilities, he’d managed to wedge himself between his window sill and bookcase, he longed for small _safe_ spaces, places he could hide away, and try his best to forget everything.  
  
He needed help desperately, but at the same time, he wanted to _fall_. He was stuck in the empty in-between, not sure what to do.  
  
He escaped from his cramped corner and quietly walked out of his room.  
  
The house seemed silent until Peter realised that he had dissociated. He dug his nails into his palm and scrunched his eyes shut as he tried to anchor himself.

All sound came at _once_. He winced as he clamped his hands over his ears, it was too much input. He heard Tony gently humming downstairs, as he washed up, and the faint sound of the television. He tried to focus on one particular noise and his heart landed on the distant sound of Morgan snoring.   
  
He tiptoed over and gently pushed Morgan’s door open.  
  
Morgan was fast asleep, tucked under her duvet, hugging her _Spider-Man _plushie close to her chest. Pepper was out cold too, knelt beside the bed, with her head rested against her folded arms.   
  
Tears filled Peter’s eyes, he brushed them away with the back of his sleeve. He was Morgan’s hero, he had been for years, and he felt like he was letting her down because he felt like this. He swallowed the sob in his throat, he didn’t want to startle Pepper. He shuffled across the room and grabbed a blanket from the corner; he carefully wrapped it around Pepper’s shoulders, and he took the storybook out of her hand, placing it on Morgan’s bedside table.   
  
He backed out, quietly clicking the door shut behind.  
  
_Run..._! His instincts screamed while his heart softly muttered, _Stay_.  
  
_No_, he shook his head, _I can’t do this…._  
  
He turned on his heel and hesitantly crept downstairs. He pulled the sleeves of his jumper over his hands to stop himself from digging in his nails.  
  
He quietly stepped off the last step and clung onto the bannister.   
  
Tony was dancing in the kitchen as he put all the clean cutlery back in the draws.   
  
Peter’s throat seized, realising he was about to change Tony’s mood, with his baggage. Although, he was slowly starting to realise that’s what Tony would want him to do. Tony might be happy, but if Peter _fell,_ Tony’s life would never be the same. He’d never dance around the kitchen, without a care in the world, if he lost his kid _that_ way. If Peter opened up now, then the scene playing out in front of him would happen again. It might take a while for them to get back to the way it was before but it was achievable.   
  
“Tony…”   
  
Tony threw the dishtowel over his shoulder as he turned around, “Pete?” He narrowed his eyes, studying Peter’s trembling stature, he rushed over, “Hey, hey…” He reached out, catching Peter’s wrist, “What’s wrong, kid?”  
  
Peter blinked tears away as he clutched onto Tony’s arm hoping he could pull him to shore, “I…” He looked up into Tony’s wide panicked eyes, “I need help.” With that admission, he broke. It was raw and unbearable, it hurt his throat, and stung his eyes.  
  
Tony dragged him into a hug, threading his fingers in his hair, and rubbing circles on his back, as he muttered soft promises.

Peter’s not _okay _but in Tony’s arms, at least he could breathe again.

It’s a tiny victory, but it’s the first step forward.

* * *

"_Every day that I don't hide myself away_  
_To me, is a tiny victory_,"  
\- **Tiny Victories, Christina Perri.**


	8. Stab Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Infinity War AU. After Thanos stabs Tony, Peter swings in, to save the day.

Thanos pushed Tony down into a sitting position and with a firm hand cradled his head, “You have my respect, Stark.” He spoke with an unwelcoming _gentle_ tone, “When I'm done, half of humanity will still be alive."  
  
Tony coughed violently, blood trailed down his chin, as he struggled to force air back into his shocked lungs.  
  
Thanos stood up, “I hope they remember you.” He proclaimed with a sneer, he held out the gauntlet, ready to go for the kill.  
  
“Stop!” Peter’s _small_ but valiant voice screamed as he charged across the planet’s surface.  
  
Tony’s stomach twisted violently, he didn’t care if _he _died. So, what if he got stabbed by his own armour? Screw it, he always knew Iron Man would kill him in the end. Now, that’s fucking poetic, _isn’t it_? If that was the universe’s plan for Tony, so be it. He’ll take it. He would willingly go gentle into that good night if it meant Thanos didn’t get his grubby fingers on another stone. Thanos did not gain anything from killing Tony. He wouldn’t get the stone. He didn’t win. He would be stuck in the same place he was before.   
  
Peter was a different story. _Yes,_ Tony was happy to die for this, but that was before Peter came charging into the jaws of hell. Now, Tony knew he couldn’t die. He had to save his kid. Peter was _strong_, one of the strongest people Tony knew and loved, but not for this. _Never for this_.  
  
“Peter…” Tony choked out a mouthful of blood, “No, don’t!”  
  
Peter’s mask was deactivated, so they could see his face. Tony swallowed the lump in his throat because he knew why Peter wore a mask. It was a way to hide how he scared he was. _So_, if he didn’t have his mask on, it only meant one thing. It wasn’t working. The suit must have malfunctioned in battle.  
  
Peter skidded to a stop, near Thanos. Surprisingly, Peter didn’t falter. He didn’t even cave and look over at Tony. Tony knew that Peter wore a bravado, he’d seen him crumble under the weight of his responsibilities many times but he had never seen him like this before. This was_ unprecedented_. Peter looked determined, unphased by the challenge in front of him. Almost as if, he was sure that he was going to win this fight. It was a facade, _yes_. Peter was terrified, no doubt about it, he could tell by the way the kid’s hands were shaking by his sides, but he still applauded his guts, even though he didn’t want to see this scene unfold.  
  
Thanos turned, clearly also impressed by Peter’s strength, “Little insect.” He greeted, with a smirk.  
  
“Actually…” Peter tilted his head to his shoulder, “I’m an arachnid.”  
  
Peter leapt up and spun mid-air, kicking Thanos in the jaw. Tony tried to move but he was met by a wall of pain. His vision blurred, and he reluctantly dipped his chin to his chest as he fought to stay awake. He could hear the fight but he feared not being able to see what was unfolding. Everything happened so quickly, that Tony hadn’t had the time to unpack everything wrong with the fact that Peter decided to educate Thanos on the difference between insects and arachnids.  
  
“Stark.” Strange’s voice said warily, “Don’t move.” He pressed a hand against Tony’s shoulder.  
  
Tony shook his head and pushed him away, “No, help Peter. You gotta…” He stopped pleading when he looked up at Strange, whose face softened. Tony shook his head when he realised what the look meant, “This is it, isn’t it? The one…” _The one in fourteen million_. The future Strange had seen where they won and Thanos _lost_.  
  
“If I tell you what happens…” Strange breathed, “It won’t happen.”  
  
Tony fought against his grip, “If _my_ kid dies…” He hissed through gritted teeth, “It’s_ on_ you.” He didn’t mean that, not really. He understood that Strange was trying to do what was best for the universe. But in Tony’s eyes, _damn_, the universe, if the only way to save it, is to sacrifice Peter Parker. Tony would watch the universe burn, or be the one to destroy it if it meant he could save his kid.  
  
With that, Strange left, probably to locate the absent Guardians. Peter was still _fighting _Thanos, and he was doing exceptionally brilliantly. He was using the planet’s dodgy gravitational pull to his advantage, swinging out of harm's way whenever Thanos went to grab him.

Tony quickly patched up his wound using a serum from his suit. He’d only looked away for a second, and that’s when Peter _yelped_.   
  
Tony’s heart thudded, heavy in his chest, as he looked up.   
  
Thanos’ hand was wrapped around Peter’s throat, he held him up high as if he were a trophy, Peter kicked his chest, trying to break free.   
  
Tony leapt to his feet but doubled over, “Kid…”   
  
“You’re brave, little one.” Thanos praised, “But you’re_ weak_...”  
  
Peter kept kicking, standing his ground, “No…” He cried out, "You're..."  
  
“Hold still.” Thanos quipped, “This will be quick.”  
  
Tony's focus shifted onto Peter's frailing arm. Thanos was using his non-gauntlet wielding hand to choke Peter. This meant, he was _vulnerable_, and too caught him in his monologue that he was letting the gauntlet wielding hand swing freely by his side. This gave Peter, the perfect opportunity. The kid was putting up an _act _by kicking and screaming. It gave Thanos the ego boost he craved, watching someone squirm under his thumb; Peter webbed up the gauntlet, now all he needed was the right pull.  
  
The first rule, all new superheroes should learn. One of the first Tony lessons taught Peter. _Never watch the mouth, always watch the hands. _It was obvious that Thanos had failed on that one.  
  
Tony let out a strained breath as he forced himself up onto his feet, “Hey, _Barney!_” He bellowed.  
  
“Don’t worry, Stark.” Thanos turned to look at him, "Your time will come.”  
  
Peter used this moment of distraction to swing his arm back. It was almost _effortless_, how the gauntlet slipped off and soared through the sky. Quill flew down, and caught it, he tossed it down to Strange, who was waiting underneath.  
  
Thanos was almost foaming at the mouth when he turned his attention back to Peter. The sixteen-year-old who’d foiled his plans. Peter was still in a chokehold. Thanos could easily kill him if he simply tightened his hand around his throat.   
  
Tony didn’t have long, “Peter!” He charged, ignoring the pain he was in, for Peter.  
  
Peter, though, had a plan. He grabbed onto Thanos’ arm, and span, kicking the Titan’s jaw with both feet. Thanos was caught up in his anger at his defeat and didn’t have time to retaliate.   
  
Tony watched as Peter lifelessly crashed to the ground, rolling on his side a few times, before he stilled.  
  
“Peter…” Tony started to run, muttering his name, like a mantra.  
  
Before he could get to him, Nebula careened forward, she swung her sword and with a single swoop, beheaded Thanos. It was _over_. Just like that, they won.  
  
Tony didn’t get caught up in celebration, he dropped by Peter’s side. The kid was out cold. His skin was devoid of all colour, and his breathing was uneven. Up close, Tony saw the damage Thanos had caused. Peter’s neck was an art gallery of bruises. Peter had fought back and got the gauntlet of, all why being choked to death. Tony didn’t care what had been said in the past, Peter was the strongest Avenger.   
  
Sixteen years old, and he did it. He was the one in fourteen million, helped by Nebula. They’d go down in history books together. _Yes_, Tony wanted Peter to go down in the history books, years from now, but what he didn’t want was to read an obituary.   
  
“Kid?” Tony pressed his hand against Peter’s cheek, “Hey, can you hear me?” His voice wavered as he gently shook Peter’s shoulder, “Come on, kid. You did it.” He leaned down, brushing his fingers back through Peter's curls, “Imagine what Ned’s gonna say about this, hey? We’ll never shut him up.” He blinked away tears as he shook him, “May’s gonna ground you, you know? She’ll probably ground me too, don’t you think?” Peter didn’t flinch, and with that, Tony’s defences crumbled, “Kid, come on, please.” He pleaded as he tugged Peter closer, “Wake up!”  
  
Peter bolted upright, gasping for air.  
  
“Hey, hey.” Tony caught his wrists and held them gently down against Peter’s chest, “It's me. You’re okay, it’s over.”   
  
Peter let out a shaky laugh. _Oh_, only he could laugh when he’d just come face-to-face with death, “That was scary.” He coughed out, as he closed his eyes, and let out a slow pained breath.  
  
“Yeah. We won, kid.”   
  
Peter blinked his eyes open, “We did?”  
  
“Yeah, kid.” Tony smiled proudly, “You saved us.”  
  
“That’s awesome.” Peter grabbed onto Tony’s wrist and pulled himself into a sitting position, Tony wasted no time in dragging him into his arms, holding him as tight as he possibly could, “...Mr. Stark?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“I thought…” Peter muttered, a ring of sarcasm in his tone, “I thought we weren’t there yet.”  
  
Tony rolled his eyes, as he held on tighter, “We’re there, kid.” He pressed a kiss against Peter’s cheek.  
  
Tony had been stabbed, he hadn’t even healed yet. He knew one thing though, the pain he was in, would never amount to the agony he felt in those few moments where he thought he had lost Peter Parker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endgame? I don't know her.


	9. Shackled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony was used to running before he could walk, but when it came to his children, he learned to start small and then aim big.

Peter’s wrists were bruised.   
  
Tony knew they would heal in a couple of hours but that didn’t stop him from worrying.   
  
Peter’s advanced healing cleaned up flesh wounds in next to no time, and they helped heal internal injuries faster too. Tony would always be grateful that Peter could heal. Peter could overcome injuries in the blink of an eye, leaving no scarring physically, but it did mentally. Peter’s skin could heal, but his mind didn’t have the same advantage. He had super strength, but it still hurt.   
  
Tony had witnessed Peter crumble under the weight of everything more than once, and every time hurt worse than the last.  
  
This time, Peter didn’t do his usual goofy thumbs up or wear a confident bravado. He broke, as soon as they found him. Sometimes, bad things happen, and it’s impossible to hide behind a facade. Even for Peter, who’d had years of practice internalising his pain from those he loved.  
  
Peter had the day off school and decided that because it was Friday, he would have Morgan over at his apartment for the night. So, Tony knew something was off, as soon as he received a call from Morgan’s teacher, reporting that Peter never came to pick her up. Peter wasn’t famous for being on time for things, he was the opposite, he was fashionably late to places he needed to be. However, he wouldn’t be late for something as important as picking Morgan up from school. He’d done it multiple times before, and he was never late, usually, he’d get there too early.  
  
Tony didn’t search for long, he received a cryptic phone call shortly after hanging up on Morgan’s teacher, and it was easy to fill the gaps of what had happened.  
  
Peter was kidnapped. It was evident that whoever took him wanted Morgan but when they had Peter within their grasp, they took the chance. Tony knew Peter was capable of fighting back but wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise his identity. Peter didn’t hide the fact he was Spider-Man for his own safety, it was for those he loved.   
  
The kidnappers were amateurs, and Tony tracked the signal in minutes.   
  
Tony set a plan in action; May rushed to pick Morgan up from school while Pepper and Rhodey suited up, Happy grabbed the car, and they headed to the rendezvous point, the warehouse Peter was being kept.  
  
Tony got there first, and the group were no match for the Iron Man suit. Some of them even ran away screaming for _help_.   
  
Tony found Peter shackled to a radiator, sobbing his heart out, as he tried to break free from the ropes tied around his wrists. The group hadn’t held back from a beating, Peter’s face was an art gallery of bruises and cuts. He was delirious, unaware of his surroundings. Peter hadn’t even noticed that in his desperate attempt to break free, he’d ripped the radiator off the wall.  
  
Tony would never forget the time spent untying the knots in the rope; Peter screamed, pleading with him to stop, he even lashed out, by repeatedly kicking Tony in the shin. The gut-wrenching sounds Peter made would be engraved in Tony’s mind forever_,_ much like Peter’s final words on Titan.   
  
As soon as Peter was freed, his head flopped forward, resting against Tony’s chest as his cries quietened. Tony quickly deactivated the nanosuit, so Peter could melt in his arms. Tony then scooped him up into his arms and hurried outside, to where Pepper and Rhodey were rounding up the people responsible for this.  
  
Tony threaded his fingers through Peter’s curls as he quietly muttered instructions to Happy. They were in the car, heading to the Lake House, where Peter could be checked over.  
  
Peter was curled up on Tony’s lap, with his head laid on his chest. He hadn’t stopped crying but it was silent.   
  
Tony couldn’t tear his eyes away from the bruises around Peter’s wrists, the rope burn left behind from being shackled. He was grateful for Peter’s healing power, but he hated the mental scars it left behind. Peter would go to school, surrounded by his peers who knew he was taken hostage, but he’d have no cuts or bruises. Nothing to signify that it was a traumatic experience that he wasn’t going to forget overnight. His classmates wouldn’t see what's underneath, they’d just live their lives, thinking it wasn’t a big deal.   
  
That might be the downside of regenerative healing abilities, Peter’s scars aren't visible and people wouldn't see, what he held on his shoulders every day. That’s also true for a person’s mental state. Not many people noticed Tony’s declining mental health, back in the day, because he didn’t have the scars to prove it. Now, since the final battle, people sympathized with him more, because of the scarring on his face and his prosthetic arm. They noticed his troubles because they were defined by a physical injury.  
  
“Hey, kid.” Tony muttered gently as he twiddled his fingers around Peter’s hair, “You can fall asleep if you want to...” Peter shook his head. “It’s okay, bud.” Tony could tell when Peter was about to dissociate, he often did it when he was scared or was attempting to suppress an anxiety attack. This was one of those moments, “You’re safe.” Peter flinched when Tony’s hand brushed against a bump on his head, “Sorry, bud.”   
  
Peter looked up at him, with misty-eyes, “I’m scared.”  
  
Tony knew he had to pry, to get to the root of his fear, “Of what?”   
  
“Falling asleep.” Peter sniffled, “They said if I fell asleep…”  
  
“Peter...” Tony shushed him, “They’re gone, they’re never gonna hurt you again.” He squeezed his shoulder, “You’re in the car, with me. Happy’s here too. You’re _safe _with us, okay? We’ll be home before you know it.”  
  
“Is…” Peter cleared his throat, “Is Morgan okay?” This kid could be on his deathbed and everyone else still came _first_. That was something that needed addressing - self-preservation - something Tony wasn’t too skilled in himself.   
  
“Yeah, Pete.” Tony nodded, “She’s fine. Just worried about you.” Peter yawned as he snuggled closer to Tony, forcing his eyes to stay open, “We can talk as much as you want later, kid, but I think you should sleep. I won’t leave you, I promise. I’ll be here when you wake up.”  
  
“Okay.” Peter closed his eyes, and relaxed in his grasp, “Thank you, Tony.”   
  
“Anyday, kid.”   
  
Tony knew he couldn’t change how the world reacted to injuries, invisible or not, but he could start with himself and build from that. He could tell everyone who would listen, his concerns. He knew Pepper, May, Happy and Rhodey would agree with him that something needed to be done. Ned, Michelle and even Peter, would be more than happy to help him start a campaign, for those who struggle with mental health. He would make sure he raised Morgan to have those same principals, to look out for people, spot invisible signs that Tony saw in Peter every day.  
  
That was the dream but first, he had to help Peter; Tony was used to running before he could walk, but when it came to his children, he learned to start small and then aim big. 


	10. Unconscious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their weekly movie night ends, Morgan runs upstairs to brush her teeth, Tony tries to wake Peter up and send him to bed - he then enters a fight against time, to figure out why Peter won't wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're getting two prompts today, this is the first because I didn't leave myself enough time to proof-read yesterday.
> 
> Everything medical addressed in this chapter I know from first-hand experience.

Tony loved movie night. It was a Friday evening tradition with his kids. The same thing happened every week, like _ clockwork _. One of them would choose the movie, which would take a good few hours. Peter would tell Morgan that he’d stay awake and watch the whole thing, but he would then proceed to fall asleep in the first ten minutes.

It was the end of the week, Peter needed to hibernate after working his _ ass _ off at school for five days straight and then swinging around the city, protecting its citizens. So, Tony couldn't blame him for passing out.

Morgan usually ran around the room, commentating the events of the movie and playing whatever games she laid her hands on, by the end, her energy would be spent, and she’d fall asleep in Peter’s arms.

Pepper would return from work when both kids were passed out, and Tony had gotten them into bed.  
  
“I’m gonna brush my teeth!” Morgan announced as she dropped the Lego she was playing with and charged upstairs.  
  
Tony stretched his arms over his head as he yawned, “Okay, baby.” Morgan was unbelievably spritely for a Friday night. Normally, she’d be fast asleep, scrawled across Peter’s lap. Tony knew she’d be running on adrenaline, because she won an award in class, for being the most helpful student of the week, she was rightfully _proud_ of herself.   
  
Peter was curled against the corner of the couch, out cold. Tony didn’t want to wake him up, but from the way Peter was positioned, he didn’t seem comfortable. Tony didn’t want him to have an uncomfortable sleep, not when he had a perfectly good bed upstairs. He also refused to carry him. The kid was all arms and legs which made it impossible to get him up the stairs.   
  
“Hey, kid…” Tony extended his foot, gently kicking Peter’s ankle, “It’s bedtime.” Peter didn’t stir. Tony jumped onto his feet, and clapped his hands together, “I’m not carrying you again…” He pressed his hand against his back for dramatic purposes, “I’ll throw my back out one of these days.”   
  
He reclined his head back and groaned defeatedly. He knew this would end with him scooping Peter into his arms and taking him to bed. He couldn’t help but melt around Peter, especially after five years without him; he was at the kid’s beck and call, twenty-four hours a day.  
  
“Uh, okay Pete. You win.” He bent down, placing a hand on the kid’s arm, so he could manoeuvre him, “You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, don’t you?”   
  
Tony’s fingers brushed against Peter’s hand, and that was when he started to panic. Peter was not a heavy sleeper, he was on high alert all the time, but sometimes, after a hard week, he_ crashed_. That’s what Tony thought this was, but it was apparent that it wasn’t.   
  
Peter’s skin was ice cold to the touch, but contrastively, it was clammy. Abnormally clammy for someone who’d simply been sleeping for the past hour and a half, “Pete?” Tony pressed his hand against Peter’s cheek, the kid’s head lifelessly dropped towards his shoulder, “Peter!” Tony threaded his fingers back through Peter’s sweat-ridden curls, “Hey kid, can you hear me?” Tony turned, so he didn’t shout in Peter’s direction, “Friday, scan him.” He ordered, the AI didn’t respond, “Friday?”  
  
_Shit_, Friday was in the middle of an update. Tony scheduled them to happen at low-risk periods of time, which meant he never let her do one when Peter was on patrol. Today was meant to be a low-risk time when Morgan and Peter were safe in his sights. _Screw _updates; Tony had to find a way around them.  
  
“Fuck me.” Tony wiped his thumb across Peter’s cheek, “You’re gonna be alright, kid.”  
  
Peter hadn’t been acting out too out of the ordinary. He’d been slow and a little clumsily, he’d tripped over his feet a fair few times while playing with Morgan, but it was the end of the week, he was always a little spaced. He hadn’t been injured on patrol, Tony got immediate alerts whenever that happened, even a paper cut.   
  
Tony tried to rack his brain and find a warning sign that he hadn’t noticed before; Peter had been late home from school because band practise stretched from early morning to five in the afternoon. They were preparing for a performance.   
  
Reality hit Tony, and he pressed a quick kiss against Peter’s forehead before charging to the medicine cabinet.   
  
Peter had zero self-preservation skills. Michelle and Ned weren’t in the band, so it was likely that Peter got caught up in practice, and had forgotten to eat lunch. Peter had to consume more than Steve and Bucky collectively did, so it was dangerous if he skipped a meal.  
  
All his symptoms added up to one daunting conclusion._ Hypoglycemia. _Low blood sugar. Thankfully, Tony knew exactly how to deal with that but first, he had to make sure he was right.  
  
“Daddy…” Morgan hiccuped, a slight quiver in her voice. _Fuck_, Tony had been so busy ransacking the cupboard for a Blood Test Meter, that he’d completely forgotten that Morgan would head back downstairs after she finished cleaning her teeth, “What’s wrong with Petey?”  
  
“I don’t know, darling…” He spoke gently, as he found the Meter, and rushed back to Peter, “But he’s gonna be okay.”   
  
Morgan cautiously moved closer to Peter, “Is he poorly?”  
  
“Yeah…” Tony knelt, and unzipped the small bag the meter was in, “He’s poorly.” He held Peter’s hand in his palm, and washed it with an alcohol wipe, ready for a finger-prick blood test.  
  
“Wait, Daddy!” Morgan shouted, her assertiveness stopped him in his tracks. She marched over, holding up her arm in a defensive manner, “Petey doesn’t like needles.”  
  
Tony’s heart fluttered at her innocence, “I know, honey.” He held the device up, “It’s just a small prick. He won’t feel it.”  
  
Morgan glared at the inanimate object like she was ready to fight it, if it dared hurt her brother, “I’m gonna hold his hand.”   
  
“Okay, baby…” He watched as she locked her hand around Peter’s spare one, “You can hold his hand.”  
  
“Don’t be scared, Petey.” She whispered softly into his ear, Tony blinked tears away, as he pricked Peter’s finger and waited for the result on the meter.   
  
“Shit…” He leapt into action, charging back over to the medicine cabinet. Peter’s blood sugar levels weren’t just _low,_ they were life-threateningly low if Tony didn’t do something about it now, “Shit...fuck, come on.”  
  
“Daddy...?” Morgan sniffled, a clear wobble in her voice. Morgan was too _young_ for this, and he hated that she had to witness it. She blew him away with her resilience and bravery every time. She loved Peter fiercely, and even if she was asked, she’d never leave his side. At times like these, she had the intelligence and bedside manner that could marvel full-grown adults, but she was still a child, and she was terrified.   
  
“Not right now, Morguna…” Tony called back, trying his best not to accidentally snap. He didn’t want to scare her or ridicule her for asking questions.  
  
“Petey…” Morgan cooed desperately, “Petey, you’re scaring me! Petey!” She shouted, though her voice wobbled as a sob caught in her throat, “Daddy, he won’t wake up!”  
  
“I know...I know…” Tony pushed boxes out onto the kitchen floor, “Come on…” He nervously stomped his foot against the floor, “Morgan, I need you to keep talking to him, can you do that?”  
  
“Okay…” She cried, “Petey…” She spoke gently, the same tone she used whenever she read or told a story, “Petey, you can choose the next week’s movie. I know it’s my turn but I want you to do it.” Her voice cracked, “You gotta wake up and tell me what we’re gonna watch. I don’t like scary movies though…”  
  
Tony’s eyes landed on what he was looking for. A glucagon injection. He snatched it, and ran back over, “Don’t worry, honey. Peter would never choose a scary movie.” Tony hadn’t watched a horror movie with Peter since before _Thanos_. The kid had claimed to love the _genre_, but he clearly didn’t, as Tony ended up having to sleep on his bedroom floor that night.  
  
“Is he gonna wake up now?”

“Soon.” Tony placed the glucagon down on the coffee table, “Morguna, you're gonna have to let go of his hand, just for a second. I need to put him on the floor, is that okay?”  
  
“And then I can hold his hand again?”  
  
“Yes, yes, of course, you can.” Tony saw the conflict in her eyes as she let go of Peter’s hand, “Thank you, honey.”   
  
Tony bent down, folding one arm behind Peter’s back and the other under his legs, he hoisted him up into his arms, and then gently laid him on the floor, in the recovery position.   
  
Morgan wasted no time in charging over and grabbing Peter’s hand, “What’s that?” She asked as Tony prepared the Glucagon.  
  
“It’s gonna help him.” Tony pushed Peter’s pyjama shorts out of the way, he stabbed it into his thigh. Morgan whimpered as she tightened her grip on Peter’s hand.  
  
Tony knew the result wouldn’t be immediate, so he spent the time gently brushing his fingers through Peter’s curls while muttering soft reassurance to his kids. Morgan didn’t _speak_. She held her brother’s hand close to her chest, as she hovered, waiting for him to wake up.  
  
Tony let out a breath of relief when Peter smacked his lips together, and his face scrunched up as he extended his limbs, “Kid?”   
  
Morgan lay down onto the ground, until she was almost nose-to-nose with Peter, “Petey?”   
  
“Morgan?” Peter slurred as he blinked his eyes open, “Hey…” Morgan locked herself around him and buried her face against his chest, “What’s…” Peter draped an arm over her as he looked up at Tony, “What’s going on?”  
  
Tony squeezed his shoulder, “Low blood sugar, kid.”  
  
“Oh…” Peter said, still somewhat spaced, “Sorry.”   
  
“Don’t worry…” Tony told him, he moved his hand back and scratched the back of his head, “But I think we’re gonna have to review your...glucose intake.”  
  
“Sounds...Riveting.” Peter joked as he turned his attention to his sister, “Hey, M.”   
  
Morgan sat up, folding her legs as she looked at him, with misty-eyes, “Daddy stabbed you with a needle.”  
  
Peter narrowed his eyes, “Betrayal.”  
  
“Betrayal, huh?” Tony scoffed.  
  
“Thank you.” Peter held up his hand, and Tony carefully lifted him up, “I’m not a baby.” He complained.   
  
“Totally not, Spider-Baby.” Tony mocked as he placed Peter back onto the couch, he bopped his nose, "Next time you feel off, tell me. I’d rather deal with it before you pass out on me and…” Morgan jumped onto the couch, leaning her head on Peter’s knees.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Peter said as he twiddled his fingers through Morgan’s hair.   
  
“You’re okay now…” Tony sighed, he held up the Blood Test Meter, “But I am gonna have to test you again in a minute to see where you are now.”  
  
“Lucky me.”  
  
“Don’t worry, Petey.” Morgan sang, “I’ll hold your hand.”  
  
“Thanks, munchkin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My little brother has Type One Diabetes, so I've been in this kind of situation three times over the past few years. He was actually the one who told me to write this (because he loves iron dad as much as we do but he adores Morgan more than any other character.)


	11. Stitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets hurt while babysitting his sister, and Nathaniel Barton.

Once a month, Clint stopped over for lunch and brought Nathan along too.   
  
Nathan and Morgan were best friends, much to _Peter's envy__._ In actual fact, Peter took care of them, while Tony and Clint talked. _Talked_? It was borderline gossip, it was essentially bitching, about everything and anything. Especially, Steve’s _decision _to go back in time, and marry Peggy Carter, without even discussing the idea with anyone beforehand.  
  
The front door opened, and Nathan barged in, Peter and Morgan weren’t with him.   
  
“Nate?” Clint circled the breakfast bar and knelt, to greet him, “Hey, buddy. Where’s Peter?”  
  
Nate scooted past his dad, and raced over to Tony, he tugged his trouser leg to get his attention. Clint narrowed his eyes and muttered something about_ favouritism_. Tony rolled his eyes, as he got down to his nephew’s level, “Hey, Nate.” He ruffled his hair and offered him his goofiest smile. Nathan was a few months younger than Morgan but was born five years before her, Tony would never wrap his mind around how that worked. Even though he was the one who invented time travel. The lucky thing was, Nathan would be going to school with Morgan._ So_, they already had each other.   
  
“You're...” Nathan bounced on his feet, back and forth, “Morgan’s daddy?”   
  
Tony narrowed his eyes, “Yes, I am.” His heart sank in his chest. He couldn’t hear either of his kids outside, and he was starting to worry. _Why weren’t they with Nathan_? He prayed that Nathan had lost track of them one of Morgan’s expeditions of the woodland.  
  
“Are you Peter’s too?”   
  
“Yes.” Tony noticed that Nathan’s eyes were slightly bloodshot as if he’d been crying, “What’s wrong?”   
  
“He got hurt,” Nathan said, pointing to the door.   
  
“Hurt?” Tony knew Nathan was young, he couldn’t exactly shout at him for an explanation. Usually, when Peter got hurt, it was on patrol. So, Happy had to deal with a lot of crap from Tony, because manners went out the window whenever his kids were hurt. He’d owned Happy a present or something, the guy put up with a lot of shit. Nathan was different, he was four-years-old, and it’d built up the courage to tell Tony in the first place, “How did he hurt himself?”  
  
“He fell out of the treehouse.”   
  
Clint scooped Nathan into his arms, alert and ready to bolt out of the house in the hunt for Peter and Morgan, “How hurt is he, bud?” He asked as Tony turned and grabbed the first aid kit from the cupboard.   
  
“He was asleep…” Nathan started. _So_, he was unconscious, “Then he woke up, and said his arm hurt.” _Injured arm_? Tony and Clint could handle that, “He tried to stand up but he fell over…” _He either has a concussion or a leg injury. _“Morgie told me to come and get _their_ daddy.” Morgan was the responsible one out of his children? _Wow_, he was doomed.  
  
“Thank you, Nate.” Clint hurried to the door, with Tony hot on his tail, “Where’s the treehouse?” He asked as he charged down the patio steps.  
  
“Left, and then keep going straight.” Tony bolted ahead, “You won’t miss it!” Tony heard Morgan before he saw them either of them. She was humming ‘_Black In Black_’ but it was quite obvious in the way the tune wobbled, that she was also crying. It was one of those rare moments when Tony was both proud and terrified.  
  
He found them, sat together. Peter was leant up against the tree, under the shadow of the treehouse. His skin was chalk-white, and Tony could tell by the way his eyes were drooping shut, he was on the verge of passing out.  
  
Peter having a concussion wasn’t a surprise, it was a sheer drop from the treehouse to the ground. It wasn’t your everyday treehouse, it was a Stark!Treehouse. Fully equipped, and foolproof. It was safe, guaranteed by Friday and Tony, himself. The problem is Tony had never considered having to make it ‘_Peter-Proof_.’  
  
It was obvious that Peter had tried to test his new web formula but it had snapped and he’d fallen.   
  
Morgan was crouched down by his side, holding his hand, “Daddy..”  
  
“Hey....” Tony knelt, pressing his hand against Peter’s cheek, “What have you gotten yourself into? I leave you alone for ten minutes.”   
  
“I’m sorry.” Peter slurred, as he tried to smile.  
  
“It’s my fault,” Morgan cried, her lower lip trembling as she clung to her brother.  
  
Peter shook his head, “No, no…”   
  
“I wanted to see him swing…” Morgan hiccuped, “Nathan wasn’t watching--”   
  
Nathan didn't know Peter was Spider-Man, _not yet_. His siblings did, but Clint and Laura thought it was best for him not to know yet because apparently, he wasn’t the best at keeping secrets.  
  
“And then he fell…” Morgan sobbed, holding up her arm, “And he wouldn’t wake up, Daddy...I didn’t…”  
  
Tony noticed the alarm etched across Peter’s face as he desperately attempted to reassure his sister, “It’s not your fault, baby.” Tony told her, “It was an _accident_. Peter’s webbing was faulty, that’s all it was.”  
  
“He..” She swallowed the lump in her throat, “He cut his arm.”  
  
“I know.” Tony turned, rolling up Peter’s sleeve. The cut was quite deep, and it needed stitches, straight away. They couldn’t dawdle or he’d be left with a nasty scar, “Okay bud, I’m gonna have to stitch this up.”   
  
“No…” Peter groaned sleepily, “Leave it.”  
  
“I can’t leave it, kid.”   
  
“Everything alright, here?” Clint circled, placing Nathan down onto his feet, “Oh…_kid_.” He knelt, “Do you need me to do anything?”  
  
“Um, I’ve gotta stitch this up…”  
  
“I said_ no_!” Peter shouted, on the edge of throwing a tantrum. He only ever snapped, if he was _genuinely _angry at Tony, or he was injured.  
  
Clint’s forehead creased because he’d never seen this side of Peter before, “He’s scared of needles.” Tony explained, Clint sighed in realisation.  
  
“I won’t let you,” Peter said, through gritted teeth, but Tony didn’t take that threat to heart, especially because Peter was more than likely going to pass out before they made it back to the Lake House.   
  
Tony brushed a hand through Peter’s hair, “I’m sorry, kid, but if we left this…you can kiss goodbye to patrol for...hmm, what do you think, Barton? Six weeks?” Peter’s eyes widened.

Clint raised an eyebrow, “I’d say nine.”   
  
“Okay, okay…” Peter groaned, “You can do it.”  
  
“Good.” Tony looked up to Morgan, “Hey darling, you’re gonna have to let go of Peter’s hand.”  
  
“No.” She shook her head, tugging Peter’s good arm closer.  
  
“I’m sorry, baby, but Petey’s got…” He leaned in, so Nathan didn’t hear, “Super strength, and when he’s hurt he can’t control it, so he might hurt your hand.”  
  
“I don’t care!”  
  
“Hey, Morgs.” Clint stood up, defusing the situation, “Why don’t you come and stand with Nathan? And I’ll hold Peter’s hand for you.”  
  
“Okay.” Morgan leaned in, kissing Peter’s cheek before she rushed over to Nathan.  
  
Clint crouched down, taking Peter’s hand. Tony started preparing the needle, “Are you sure, birdbrain? The kid’s pretty strong, and he’s got a death grip...you won’t escape.”  
  
“I’m pretty sure I can take it, Stark.” Clint quipped. Tony decided not to advance his warnings, Clint had signed his warrant by being a _dick_ about it.  
  
“If you’re sure.” Tony turned to Peter, he brushed his fingers across his cheek, “You can close your eyes, kid. This won’t last long, I promise.”  
  
Peter scrunched his eyes shut, and bit down on his lip, as he tensed. Peter only flinched for the first three stitches then he relaxed, Tony kept asking him if he was conscious, and the kid muttered back half-hearted replies. It wasn’t until Tony was almost done when he realised why Peter wasn’t _reacting_, he was taking out his fear on something else.   
  
That something else was Clint’s hand.  
  
The archer’s face was devoid of all colour, and he was biting down on his lip to conceal his reaction. He’d signed up for this, in a highly arrogant way, so he wasn’t going to lose this battle. He said he could do it, he was going to wait it out until the end.  
  
“You alright, Clint?” Tony asked.  
  
“Shut up.” Clint said breathlessly, “Hurry up, hurry up.”  
  
Tony snorted a laugh, he finished the last two switches and released Peter’s arm, “Well done, kid.” He praised, brushing a hand through Peter’s curls.  
  
“Peter, let go.” Clint tugged his hand, “Kid, can you..._please_ let go now….” Peter released his hand, and Clint jolted back, cradling his bruised hand as he turned away, trying not to swear with children present, “Jesus Christ.”   
  
Tony bent down and hoisted a semi-conscious Peter up into his arms, “I did warn you.” Clint turned, and glared at him, “Well, you’ll be ready for next time.”  
  
“Next time?!” 


	12. Don't Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Quiet Place AU (Spoilers for the movie)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH (and mentions of other MCDs)

It was Peter’s fault.   
  
He should have realised Morgan was following him before it was too late to turn back.   
  
In his defence, Morgan had been taught to tip-toe as quietly as she could. She needed to, so she didn’t alert _them_ and end her life before it had barely begun.   
  
Six months after the vanished returned, the planet was overrun by a new threat. An alien race, that they dubbed the ‘_Death Angels_.’ Unlike Thanos, they didn’t have an endgame. They hunted and _killed_ simply because they could.  
  
Superheroes were _useless _against them. There was nothing they could do to stop the invasion. The creatures’ armoured shells were too strong, bullets bounced off, and bombs were proved useless.   
  
The creatures could tear right through Peter’s webs, and he’d tried to fight them once, and almost died. Not even the retired Iron Man suits could wound them.  
  
Two years in and every day was a fight to _survive._ Peter barely felt like he had a life. It was a constant challenge every day. He lived for Morgan, May, Tony and Pepper. If he lost them, he would stop fighting to hang on.  
  
The world wasn’t the same place anymore. The creatures had wiped out a considerable portion of the population, and those who survived lived by making as little noise as they possibly could. The aliens were blind, they relied on their hearing. If they heard a single branch snap, then your life was_ over_. The world how to adapt to a speechless life, which is why most people have taken the time to learn sign language.  
  
It had been a year since Peter had watched Ned die.  
  
Months since his best friend was torn out of his life. It happened so fast, and there was nothing he could have done to stop it. Ned had been walking behind the group after their monthly trip out for supplies and he’d dropped his water bottle, alerting the creatures. Tony and Peter were the closest, they tried to _save_ him. They ran as fast but as quietly as they could, but they were too slow.  
  
The worst part was, Peter hadn’t been able to scream or _break_. He’d silently watched as Ned was snatched away. Tony had clasped a hand over Peter’s mouth, to stop conceal any noise, and then he’d carried him back to the Lake House, to guarantee he didn’t do anything _stupid_.  
  
Peter snuck out, just after lunch, to visit Ned’s memorial. It was an hour away from their house, and he knew, alone he could do it in half the time.   
  
That was until he’d realised that Morgan had followed him out.   
  
He knew she was only followed because she was a curious seven-year-old kid and she was as protective over him as he was of her.   
  
She understood the danger of making a sound, even a whisper. Which is why he didn’t realise she was behind him until she tripped and fell.  
  
Peter scooped her up, and ran, as the creatures started hurrying toward the sound. They hid in a tree, Peter kept one hand pressed over her mouth to conceal any whimper.  
  
They were left hanging there, for a good few hours. It was dark by the time the creatures had disappeared back into the depth of the woodland.  
  
Peter gently guided Morgan to the ground, and then jumped down himself.  
  
He knelt and nudged her chin so she focused on him.   
  
_Don’t let go of my hand_, Peter signed,_ Okay?_  
  
She nodded and took hold of Peter’s outstretched hand. They hurried through the trees and stepped out onto the road. It was a straight line home from there.  
  
It became apparent that they wouldn’t make it back until morning, especially not on foot. Travelling at night was _dangerous_, more dangerous than by day.   
  
They needed somewhere to_ hide_.   
  
Peter hurried down the road, pulling Morgan along as gently as he could, considering the circumstances.   
  
He clocked Happy’s abandoned truck suspended on the roadside. In theory, if they got inside, all Peter had to do was release the handbrake and they’d roll back down the hill. They’d make it home triple as fast as they could on foot.  
  
He stopped in his tracks and looked down at his sister. _We’re going to hide in Happy’s truck, _He told her. He motioned to the vehicle with a shaking finger.  
  
_Okay_, she replied, though her lower lip trembled as a cry threatened to escape, she held it back.  
  
Peter moved again, helping her along.   
  
Happy died in the first few weeks of the initial invasion while diverting the creatures away from Morgan and May, who had been stranded alone together. He sacrificed himself, so they could live. Morgan couldn't remember much about Happy. Apart from the _stories_ she was told.   
  
It was the same for Rhodey, but he hadn’t died. They heard from him every week or so but he was on the other side of the country, so they hadn’t seen him since before all this started.  
  
Peter skidded to a halt when torchlight shone over his face  
  
The light shifted, as the torch was moved down; Peter blinked to clear his watery eyes.  
  
Tony stood a few meters in front, clutching a torch in his hand. The older man melted and relief etched across his face, as he stared at them.   
  
Peter’s heart leapt into his throat, Tony must have been looking for them for hours, and it was easy to tell that he’d expected the worst. He’d thought he had lost his kids and he would never see them again. If that had been the case, Tony wouldn’t have _returned_ home. He would have welcomed the Death Angels with open arms.  
  
Peter and Morgan hurried over, meeting him in a hug. He pressed a kiss in Peter’s curls, and another against Morgan’s forehead.   
  
Tony leaned back to look them in the eye. _Are you okay?_ He asked. They nodded. _Good_.  
  
Tony’s smile faded when a creature shrieked in the distance. He clung onto their wrists as he looked around, desperate to escape and keep his children alive.  
  
_Happy’s truck? _Peter suggested.  
  
_Great plan, kid._ Tony squeezed Peter’s shoulder, and the creature screamed again, closer this time, _Get to the truck_, _now. _  
  
Peter scooped Morgan into his arms and charged to the truck. The window was open, so Peter could avoid making noise by opening the door. He guided Morgan in and then swung in behind her.   
  
He sat up, ready to help Tony get in, but he wasn’t behind them. Peter scrambled to see out the window. Tony hadn’t moved, he’d simply placed the torch on the ground and picked up a disregarded tailpipe from the side of the road.  
  
_Come on!_ Peter pleaded, _Get in_.  
  
Tony shook his head and pressed his finger to his lips before signing, _Stay there. Don’t move._  
  
The creatures chorused again in the distance. Tony had stopped his ground, to make sure his kids got to safety first.  
  
Peter scraped his teeth along his bottom lip as he watched on.   
  
Tony started to edge closer to the truck, but a twig broke under his foot. Peter’s stomach lunged, as a creature leapt from the trees, beelining straight for Tony. Tony swung the tailpipe but was knocked off his feet. He landed on his front, gasping for air.   
  
“Dad!” Morgan screamed, alerting the creature. Peter leapt into action, he cupped a hand over her mouth and dragged her onto his lap, as he gently shushed her.   
  
The creature turned its attention away from Tony, onto them. It thumped the roof, denting it with ease. It smashed the windows, and Peter had to bite down on his lip until it bled, to conceal his reaction. Morgan struggled, but all her sounds were muffled by Peter’s hand.  
  
There was an ominous thud in the distance, and the creature stopped its attack.   
  
Peter wrapped a strong arm around Morgan’s front and allowed the hand clamped over her mouth slip away as he leaned up to see.  
  
Tony was on his feet again, and he’d dropped the tailpipe. From the look on his face, he’d done it on purpose.   
  
Peter stared at Tony, trying to read him. Work out what his next move was. Tony always had a back-up plan, right?  
  
_I love both of you_, Tony confessed as tears filled his eyes, _Three-Thousand._  
  
This wasn’t a plan. This was a goodbye.   
  
Tony reclined his head, and with everything he had, he screamed. This was his final stand. He’d confessed to Peter that thought he’d die as Iron Man. _So_, Tony would be content knowing his sacrifice was as a father, not as an Avenger.   
  
Though, Peter couldn’t accept it, even as it happened. The creature dragged Tony away, and that was _it_.   
  
Peter raised a hesitant hand and released the hand brake.   
  
Tony was dead, and life didn’t make sense.  
  
The only thing that Peter knew, was Morgan was _alive_. So, even if it hurt to face every day, Peter would never give up as long as her heart was still beating.


	13. Adrenaline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tried to shake off the anxiety that came hand-in-hand with Peter’s radio silence. Most of the time, Peter was busy taking down a bad guy, or simply helping someone with directions.

Tony loved patrolling with Peter. It was less restrictive than his work with the Avengers. He could help and save everyday people, and those tiny victories were more rewarding than the big ‘_ almost die to save the world _’ ones. The latter lead to pain, and a troublesome recovery process. The first, Tony could tell everyone about, with a smile on his face.

_ Of course,_ the best part was that he got to spend extra time with Peter. _ Yes, _it was difficult at times because he wanted to keep him safe at all times. Especially after everything he'd had gone through in those five years without him. It took willpower to stand back and let Peter take the lead. Queens was Peter’s territory, Tony had learnt not to overstep. He came to observe and help when the kid needed it

“Okay, kid.” Tony sang as he took to the skies, “I think I’m done here.” He’d successfully trapped fifteen members of an infamous mob from _Hell’s Kitchen_, and was ready to call it a night, “Kid?”

He tried to shake off the anxiety that came hand-in-hand with Peter’s radio silence. Most of the time, Peter was busy taking down a bad guy, or simply helping someone with directions. 

Tony nervously chewed on his lip, “Hey, Spider-Man?” 

“_ Yeah? _” Peter’s voice quivered, unsure.

Tony subconsciously started to fly towards Peter’s signal, “You okay?”

“_ I… _ ” Peter slurred, “ _ I don’t know _.”

Tony sped up in an instant, “I’m on my way.” 

He landed down in a desolate alleyway. Peter, still suited up including his mask, was stumbling around, with a hand pressed against a wall. 

“Spider-Man?” Tony deactivated his nanosuit and rushed forward, he pressed a hand against Peter’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. 

Peter’s head hung low, “Hey, Tony.” He mumbled, barely audible. 

Tony reached up, placing a hand on Peter’s cheek, as he scanned him for physical injury, “You been whammied, bud?” Tony understood that the mask protected Peter’s identity but he hated not being able to see his face. Peter’s eyes were a giveaway. So, if he lied, Tony _ knew _. He was harder to read when they were hidden. Although, not impossible. Tony could tell by the way Peter was holding himself that he wasn’t okay.

“Don’t know.” Peter frantically darted his head around, like one would if they heard a wasp nearby, “Can...you hear that?” Peter was talking louder than usual, it was almost shouting at this point.

Tony frowned as he wrapped a strong hand around Peter’s upper arm, petrified that he was going to nosedive at any moment, “Hear what?”

“That noise!” Peter bellowed, “It’s really loud.”

“What kind of noise, hey?”

Peter hummed as he tried to explain it, “Thudding.”

Tony moved his hand back, laying it against Peter’s chest. His heart thudded underneath, worryingly fast, “It’s your heart, kid.”

“Wow.” Peter gasped, “It’s…really fast.”

Tony let out a breath of relief, he knew what this was. He didn’t even need to ask Karen or Friday for assistance, “How are you feeling?” 

“Okay…” Peter shrugged, his knees buckled below him, and he clung onto Tony’s arms, “Um, no…”

Tony looped his hands under his arms and lowered Peter to his knees, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He nudged Peter’s chin, “Rest for a bit, kid.”

Peter leaned his forehead against Tony’s collarbone, “Am I dying?”

Tony flinched, and wrapped an arm around him, “No.”

“You sure?” Peter’s tone remained steady, unphased by what he was saying. So, Tony knew, the kid was trying to be _ funny _ . Tony didn’t know if it was a generational thing - if Ned or Harley were there, they’d _ laugh - _ or if Tony just couldn’t handle the _idea_ of losing Peter ever again. It was probably both.

“I’m sure.” 

Peter grew heavier against his chest, “Feels like it.”

“Well, you’re not.” Tony reassured him, “This is an adrenaline rush, bud.”

“Oh.” Peter squeaked, “Great.” He leaned back, “Can...can I take my mask off?”

“Um, let me check.” He tapped his watch, “Friday, is Spider-Man safe to take his mask off?”

_ “There’s no one within a mile radius, boss.” _

“Okay.” Tony tugged at Peter’s mask, and pulled it off, “There you go, kid.”Peter’s skin was devoid of colour, and his eyes were glazed over with unfallen tears, Tony brushed his fingers through his sweat-ridden curls, “How do you feel?”

“Better.” 

Tony rolled his eyes at the obvious lie, “Sure?”

“Um…” Peter turned away and proceeded to vomit onto the ground. Tony reached forward, rubbing circles against his back, Peter’s shoulders trembled, as he broke down into a series of sobs.

“You’re okay, Pete.” He spoke softly, “Better out then in, hey?”

“Oh my…” Peter reclined his head in disgust, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it, kid.” Tony told him, “I’ve seen worse.”

Peter looked at him, with teary-eyes, “So embarrassing.” 

“You’re sick, kid.” Tony reached up, wiping away a tear from Peter’s cheek, “Nothing embarrassing about it.” He squeezed his shoulder, “At least you’re not drunk.”

Peter shook his head, “Can’t get drunk.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up, and his mouth twitched into a smirk, “Really?” He stifled a laugh, “And how do you know that?”

Peter’s face fell when he realised his mistake, “Um, it’s a theory.”

“And you've tested this theory?”

“No,” Peter replied, way too fast.

Tony scoffed as he shook his head, “Liar.”

Peter’s face crumbled, and he moved, nestling his head on Tony’s shoulder, “Don’t tell May.”

“Definitely Not.” Tony said, purposely sarcastic, “It’s strictly between us.”

“I hate you,” Peter mumbled sleepily.

Tony pressed a kiss against his temple, “Love you too, kid.”

“Can we go home now?”

“Do you think you’re going to throw up again?” Tony asked. Peter nodded as he wrapped his arms around his mentor, pulling him closer, “Friday, can you ask Happy to meet us?” He requested, “Um, and tell him to bring a bucket.”

_ “On it, boss.” _

Peter was half-asleep by the time Happy pulled up, and hurried over, “Tony?” He called, keeping his voice low.

“Hey, Hap.” Tony greeted, as he twiddled his fingers in Peter’s hair.

Happy stopped, nodding his head to Peter, “He alright?”

“Adrenaline rush,” Tony explained. He snickered at the bucket Happy was clutching, “Oh look, you came prepared.” 

“Need any help?”

“No, thank you.” Tony shuffled back, folding one arm under Peter’s legs and the other behind his back, “I’ve got him.” He got up onto his feet and cradled Peter close. The kid’s head lolled against his chest as he muttered nonsensical sentences, “Look at this, kid. Happy’s_ worried _ about you. You’ve officially wormed your way into his heart.”

Peter hummed, as he curled into Tony’s hold, “That’s nice.” 

* * *

"_I know you don't believe it,_  
_But I said it and I still mean it,_  
_When you heard what I told you,_  
_When you get worried I'll be your soldier._"  
**\- Soldier, Gavin DeGraw.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owed you all some fluff after yesterday's prompt!


	14. Tear-Stained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Peter walked in, hummed a half-hearted hello, before rushing upstairs, all while blatantly ignoring his sister’s pleas to play Hide and Seek, Tony knew something was wrong.

Tony had noticed, whenever Peter spent the week at the Lake House, he had a subconscious routine. He’d return home from school _or _patrol and talk their ears off about his day. He’d play with Morgan until dinner, then they’d all settle down to watch a movie and spend most of their time talking over it. Peter would skip away to phone May, and then help Tony with Morgan’s rather extravagant bedtime stories.   
  
_So_, when Peter walked in, hummed a half-hearted hello, before rushing upstairs, all while blatantly ignoring his sister’s pleas to play _Hide and Seek_, Tony knew something was wrong.   
  
He had a radar for when his kids were upset. He’d recently phoned Harley, out of the blue, and found out the poor kid had been dumped on the same day. In an unexplainable way, it was his _Spidey Sense_. He hadn’t seen Peter’s face when he charged through, as he’d hidden behind his hoodie, but Tony knew he was crying, or at least, had been.  
  
Pepper looked to Tony, concern swimming in her eyes.   
  
Tony jumped down from his stool, “I’ve got this.” He pressed a kiss against her cheek and hurried up.  
  
Peter’s door was _shut_. That was another red alarm. The kid hardly ever shut his door, unless it was time for bed. He kept it open, so Morgan could run in and out.   
  
Tony tapped his finger against the door, and cautiously pushed it open when he got no answer, “Kid?”   
  
“Leave me alone,” Peter growled, but the slight hiccup in his voice painted a different story. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his hood was down, but he was facing the other way, so Tony couldn’t see his face.  
  
Tony stepped in, closing the door behind him, “I’m not leaving until I know why you’re crying.”  
  
Peter tugged at his sleeves, “It doesn’t matter.” He snapped his head back, his lower lip trembled as he stared into Tony’s eyes, “Just go away!” He bellowed, but his eyes pleaded with Tony to _stay_, he threw his hand back, “I don’t need you to constantly _baby_ me.”  
  
“I’m not babying you, kid.” Tony hovered at the end of the bed, with his arms crossed, “I’m worried about you.”  
  
“You don’t have to!”  
  
Tony stifled a laugh, “Are you kidding?” He asked, “I always worry about you. Twenty-four hours, seven days a week.”  
  
Peter dipped his chin to his chest, as his throat cracked, “I’m fine.”  
  
Tony tilted his head to his shoulder, “You don’t look ‘_fine_’ to me.”  
  
“Leave me alone!” Peter cried, once more, “I don’t wanna talk.”  
  
“I know you don’t want to be alone, kid.” Tony sat down next to him, Peter shuffled away, closer to the head of the bed. Something had him _rattled. _Tony hated seeing him like this, “You know you can tell me anything and everything, right?”  
  
“Yeah…” Peter hugged his arms around his front, “But not this.”  
  
Tony’s heart dropped to his feet, he reached forward, squeezing Peter’s shoulder, “Okay, what’s going on?” This wasn’t a Spider-Man issue, this was Peter issue, and Tony would get to the bottom of it, “Did something happen at school?” Peter nodded, as he tugged a loose string hanging off the seam of his hoodie, “Did someone hurt you?” Peter shook his head, “Did someone say something?” Peter jolted, and let out a quiet whimper, “What did they say?”  
  
Peter’s arms hung by his sides as he deflated, “It’s not that easy, Tony.”  
  
Tony reached out, grabbing his arm. Peter looked at him, on the verge of breaking down, “Hey, anything and everything. Remember?”  
  
“Anything and everything?” Peter repeated softly, as he locked his hand around Tony’s, “Okay…” He kept his eyes locked on the carpet, “MJ and Ned were talking about their celebrity crushes at lunchtime.” He shrugged, “It was fun, you know?” He choked out, as his breaths grew fewer and further between, “Tony...they know something about me...that no one else…”  
  
“Pete…” Tony squeezed his hand, “Look at me.” Peter did, and he slowed his breathing, as he studied Tony, “You’re okay. Take your _time_.”   
  
Tony knew where this was going, he couldn’t wait to shower the kid with the love and pride he deserved, but Peter had to say it first. Tony couldn’t rob him of his coming out, even if it was glaringly obvious. Peter had to tell him, that was the important part. The kid needed to exhale.   
  
“I like…” Peter stuttered, pulling Tony’s arm closer, “Boys...and um, girls.” Tony’s heart fluttered in his chest, and he felt tears brim in his eyes, “I’m bi.” Peter tapped his foot, anxiously against the floor, “I...said I have a crush on Daniel Radcliffe. You know, the guy’s Harry Potter? He’s an _icon_.” Tony inhaled a small laugh, but his smile faded when Peter’s face dropped, “Some people overheard me and you know…they _suck._” Peter looked up, his breath hitched, “Tony...are you crying?”   
  
“No.” Tony scoffed, as he wiped tears out of his eyes, “Definitely not.” Tony nudged Peter’s chin up, “Listen, whatever they said, they do _suck._” Peter chuckled through a sob, “I wish you could be free to love who you want, without people screaming at you because they don’t agree with who you_ are_.” He held out his arm towards the window, to emphasize his point, “They can _fuck_ off, Pete!”  
  
Peter’s eyebrows shot up, and a grin grew on his face. Tony tried his best not to swear in front of his kids, but he wasn’t the best at holding back. That was another dollar in the swear jar, but it was worth it.   
  
“Seriously, I mean that.” Tony told him, he prodded Peter’s chest, “You are _you_. Never let them take that away.” His voice wavered, “I’m so happy that you’ve told me.” He reached out, brushing tears off Peter’s cheek with the side of his thumb, “Who knows, maybe you and Michelle are going to have a fantastic life together.” They were still _young_, but Peter and Michelle clicked, like an old married couple. It terrified Tony to his core. He loved Michelle, but seeing them together, it reminded him that Peter was growing up, “That’d be great because she’s amazing, but then again, you might not. Whoever you end up with, kid, they’re going to love you for you.”  
  
Tony wasted no time in dragging Peter into his arms, he folded his arms around his back, and Peter rested his head against his collarbone as he relaxed in his embrace. Tony moved, kissing his temple as he threaded his fingers through his hair.  
  
Peter held on as tight as he could, “Thank you."

* * *

"_But you get to exhale now._  
_You get to be more you than you have been...in a very long time._  
_You deserve everything you want._"  
**-Love Simon, 2018. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favourites. It's inspired by a conversation my mum and I had shortly after I came out as bi :)


	15. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony finds out what happened the night Peter took down the Vulture.

It was the hottest summer day in history.   
  
Tony was seconds away from calling out every ‘_climate change denier_’ on Twitter, but Pepper slapped his phone out of his hand because he didn’t need to start up informal discourse again. He'd have to do it through professional means if any. He tended to answer every hate comment he found, which in his defence, he learnt from Peter. The kid co-ran a Twitter page with Harley that dragged anyone who dared hate on Tony, including the man himself.

Tony had prepared for the heat, by setting up a pool in the garden. Morgan was charging around, in her swimming costume, solely reenacting _Finding Nemo_. Pepper sat in the corner of the pool, keeping a close eye on Morgan, while unsurprisingly reading notes for her upcoming meeting on her _Stark Tablet_.   
  
Tony had gone inside to collect Juice Pops from the freezer.  
  
“Hi, Tony,” Peter greeted, panting as he walked in.   
  
Tony peered over the door, “Oh hey, kid.”   
  
Peter’s hair was sweat-ridden, and he was visibly out of breath, which was rare for him. He was in a short-sleeved shirt, which Tony knew for a fact, belonged to Michelle. Peter hardly wore short-sleeved shirts, even in the summer months, unless he was styling a plaid funnel with it. Thanks to his mutated DNA, he couldn’t _thermoregulate_, and it meant that hot weather didn’t bother him as much as others.  
  
Not today, _it seemed_. Peter was hot and bothered, like the rest of them.  
  
“How was patrol?” Tony asked.  
  
“Disgusting.” Peter groaned, leaning on the breakfast bar. Tony closed the freezer, and moved to the fridge, he took out a bottle of water. He tossed it over to Peter, who caught it with ease, “It’s so hot.”  
  
“No…” Tony mocked, “Really.”  
  
“Shut up.” Peter chugged the water down, not taking time to breathe in-between each mouthful.   
  
Tony narrowed his eyes, studying a scar across Peter’s left arm. He’d never seen it before. Yet again, from what he could recall, he’d never seen the kid in short-sleeves. The scar started three-quarters of the way up his arm, and then snaked around, ending at the crease of his elbow.   
  
Peter didn’t have scars. Not even ones from his childhood_,_ they healed, when he got his powers. He was once shot, and in a coma for a week, but there was no scar as evidence. His healing ability cleaned them up in hours. This wasn’t_ right_. It looked old too, from how discoloured and faded it was against his skin, but that was impossible.  
  
“That’s nasty.” Tony gestured to Peter’s arm, “Did that happen on patrol?”  
  
Peter placed the bottle down on the counter, and nodded, “Um, yeah.” He answered, unsurely.   
  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tony had learnt not to freak out, but he could hear his heart thudding in his ears. For a wound like that, he should have been notified by Karen straight away.  
  
“You know…” Peter shrugged, “I heal.”  
  
“Yeah…” Tony circled the breakfast bar, “But usually, not this slow.” He held out his hand, “Can I have a look?”  
  
Peter flung his arm away, hiding it behind his back, “It’s fine.”  
  
“Peter.” Tony said firmly, but gently, he didn’t want to push too far, “What’s going on?”  
  
Peter mindlessly tapped his foot against the floor, “It’s not from today.”  
  
“Okay..” Tony trailed off, “When did this happen? Paint me a picture.”  
  
“It doesn’t matter.”  
  
“Kid.” Tony reached forward, squeezing his shoulder, “You got hurt. It matters.” Peter’s eyes glazed over. _Great_, Tony made him cry, that wasn’t what he was aiming for, “Hey?”  
  
Peter sniffled and wiped an arm across his face, “It was a long time ago.”  
  
“How long are we talking?”  
  
Peter let out a wet laugh, “Longer for you then it is for me.”  
  
Tony shook his head, “We’re talking….”  
  
“Before Thanos.”  
  
“Oh, but…” Tony blurted. This didn’t make sense. _How had he never noticed before? _Perhaps, Peter didn’t only wear long-sleeves for thermoregulation, “I ...you don’t…”  
  
“Scar easily?” Peter stared the floor, “No. This was just...different.”  
  
“It must have been horrific, kid.” Tony reached forward, catching his wrist, and carefully lifting his arm, “Why didn’t I know?”  
  
“Um…” Peter paled.   
  
Tony was petrified to hear what he had to say next, “Kid?”  
  
Peter stared at him, with tear-eyes, “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?   
  
“No.”  
  
“Promise me…” Peter reached up, grabbing Tony’s arm, “You won’t blame yourself.”  
  
Tony’s stomach lunged, he bit down on his lip and nodded, “I’ll try.” _What did he do? _  
  
“Before...Coney Island…” Peter’s throat cracked, “I confronted Toomes in this like warehouse...and he um, trapped me….”  
  
“Trapped you, how?”  
  
“He knocked down the building.” Peter admitted, “I was...in it.”   
  
Tony felt the floor beneath his feet soften, and if he wasn’t holding onto Peter, he’d nosedive in an instant, “A building fell on you.” He repeated, shocked, “Like...an…” Reality hit him in the chest, restricting his air, “You didn’t have your suit. I took your suit…”  
  
“Stop.” Peter hiccuped, “I said no blaming yourself, okay?” He took a deep breath, “It was my choice, Tony. I was reckless…” A smile crawled on his face, “And hey, I’m okay now. I got out.”  
  
Tony looked at him in disbelief, “You got out?”  
  
“I like…” He held up his arm in the air, “...Lifted it off me.”  
  
“Wow.” Tony blinked away tears, “Um..” He tugged on Peter’s arm, dragging him into a hug. It wasn’t comfortable because of how hot it was, but Tony needed it, in the moment, “You’re impossible, kid.”   
  
Peter snickered, “I guess…”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Tony muttered, as he tapped his back.   
  
“It wasn’t your fault.”  
  
Tony sucked in a sharp breath, “I know...." 


	16. Pinned Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan knew, from what she’d heard Tony say, Peter didn’t use his powers against bullies because he worried that with his super strength, he’d hurt them or perhaps, worse.

Morgan loved it when she got to pick Peter up from school with Tony.  
  
She was _obsessed_ with everything she saw. She’d said, on many occasions that when she was big, she wanted to go to Midtown, just like her big brother. The trio would always go for ice cream too. Since starting school, she didn't get to pick Peter up anymore, because he finished half an hour before she did. In her eyes, it was totally _unfair_.   
  
_So_, when she found out her school was closed for the day, she was more than excited to accompany Tony to Midtown. She chanted about getting Spider-Man inspired Ice Cream the entire journey.  
  
They waited outside, leaning up against their Aldi. The students of Midtown had grown accustomed to seeing Tony outside. They used to make a big fuss of it, but after a few weeks, the buzz died, and now, it was old news.  
  
Morgan kept her eyes locked on the doors, waiting for Peter, as students poured out, by the dozen. She waved at Michelle as she jumped into a nearby car. She knew Ned wasn’t in, he had the flu and had been off all week, so she didn’t look out for him.   
  
The principal bounced over, eager to talk to Tony. Morgan ignored their _boring_ conversation as she waited for Peter. He didn’t usually take this long, and she was growing impatient.  
  
“Come on, Parker!” A voice called from the alleyway that led down to the Lacrosse field.   
  
She hadn’t heard it before because of the chaos of the students leaving the site. She looked up to Tony, who was engrossed in conversation with Peter’s principal and hadn’t picked up on it. She shuffled away, as quietly as she could. She _innocently_ thought that Peter was simply hanging out with some of his friends, and she could grab him, and surprise Tony.  
  
That wasn’t the _case_.   
  
Morgan stopped abruptly to take in what she could see. There were a group of boys, some Morgan recognized from Peter’s Yearbook and class photos, surrounding her brother.   
  
Peter was sprayed across the concrete ground. One of the boys, that Morgan knew to be Brad, was on top of him, with his knee pushed up against his ribcage, his hand was locked around his neck, cutting off his air. Peter was flailing around, trying to fight back but two of the others were stood on his arms, holding him down.

As Morgan watched on, helpless, she wished he’d fight back, “Petey…” She muttered under her breath as she shuffled closer. Unsure of what she could do.  
  
“Fight back!” One of them shouted he kicked his foot, striking Peter across the face. Morgan flinched when she heard a loud _crack_, “Come on, Parker…”  
  
“Petey!” Morgan screamed as loud as she could.  
  
The boys stopped at the sound of her voice, turning to look at her.  
  
“Who the hell is that?”  
  
Brad released his hand and Peter gasped as air forced its way back into his lungs.  
  
One moved over, pushing her shoulder, “Get out of here, kid!”  
  
“Let him go!”  
  
Peter turned to look at her, with wide bloodshot eyes, “Morgan…” He choked out, attempting to stretch out his arm.  
  
“Shit, Brad. That's Stark’s kid.”  
  
Brad jumped up as most of the group scattered, fleeing from the scene of the crime. As soon as Brad’s knee moved from where it had been pressed against Peter’s chest, Peter rolled to his side, violently retching.  
  
“Let’s get out of here.”  
  
“Later, Parker.”  
  
Morgan stood motionless until they were all gone.   
  
“Daddy!” She bellowed, hoping he’d hear her and come running. She turned her attention to her brother, she hurried over as she chanted his name under her breath, “Petey...Petey!”  
  
Peter winced as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, “Hey…” He coughed, as he laid a hand on his chest as he let out a few ragged breaths. Morgan cautiously reached out, locking her fingers around his wrist. He was an art gallery of bruises and lacerations. Brad’s hand had left a mark around his neck, his nose was broken, the two boys who’d stood on his arms had left behind imprints of their shoes on his forearms.  
  
“Morgan!” Tony’s voice shrieked, followed by his heavy footsteps, “Morgan…” He skidded to a sudden halt, “Peter..” He rushed over, “Hey, hey.” He collapsed to his knees beside them, Peter was bouncing back and forth, in shock, “What’s going on?” He brushed his fingers gently across Peter’s cheek, “What happened?  
  
“They hurt Petey!” Morgan cried as she pulled on Peter’s arm.  
  
Tony pushed Peter’s hair back, “Who did?”  
  
“Just..” Peter strained, “Some kids….it’s alright.”  
  
Morgan scrunched her face up and tilted her head to her shoulder. She knew this wasn't alright and she didn’t understand why her brother thought it was.  
  
“No, it’s not.” Tony carefully nudged Peter’s chin up, to scan the marks on his neck, “It’s never okay if someone is hurt you, kiddo.” Peter yelped out in pain, “Sorry.”  
  
“They’re just idiots.”   
  
“You don’t need to make up excuses for them. Not anymore. This ends now, bud.” Tony told him, “They can’t keep doing this.” He nodded his head to Morgan, “If she wasn’t here, how far would they have gone?” Peter shook his head, as tears spilt down his cheeks, “I want names…”  
  
“Tony….”  
  
“I want names, so we can deal with this.” Tony said softly, “You’re not alone in this, kid.”  
  
Morgan perked up, “They need telling off.”   
  
“See, she agrees.”  
  
“Okay.” Peter pressed his head against Tony’s shoulder, as he clung to Morgan’s hand, “Can we go home now?”  
  
Tony pressed a kiss in his curls, “Yes, of course, we can.”   
  
Morgan helped Tony guide Peter onto his feet, but he was weak on his knees. Tony crouched down, scooping him up in his arms.  
  
Tony pointed to Peter's rucksack with his foot, “Morguna, can you grab Peter’s bag for me, please?”   
  
“Okay!” Morgan skipped over grabbing the rucksack, she noticed that Peter was asleep when she made it back to Tony’s side, “Is Petey gonna be okay?”  
  
“Yeah, baby. He’s gonna be alright.”  
  
She brushed her arm over her face, “Why doesn’t he want help?”  
  
Tony’s forehead creased, “Um, your brother sometimes forgets that superheroes need help too.”  
  
“Oh, okay.” She leaned up, ruffling Peter’s hair, “Love you, Petey.” She whispered, gently.  
  
It was Spider-Man’s responsibility to protect New York. And,Morgan knew it was their job to protect Peter Parker.


	17. Stay With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter sold his soul to bring Tony back. Now, his ten years are up. (Supernatural AU)
> 
> WARNING: IMPLIED MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

Peter sacrificed his soul to save Tony.   
  
It sounded easy enough to understand, but even after _ten years_, Tony still failed to wrap his head around it.  
  
Tony spent years surrounded by gods, aliens, enhanced individuals and sorcerers but he drew a line in the sand when it came to demons.   
  
Turns out, they _existed_. The myths were true.  
  
A bereaved sixteen-year-old Peter tricked Strange into letting him wander around the Sanctum Sanctorum's library. It didn’t take Peter long to find everything he needed to know about crossroad demons, he learned how to summon them, and sell his _soul_, in return, Tony came back from the dead like he’d never been gone.  
  
Peter didn’t come clean until _two years _after Tony’s miraculous reincarnation. Everyone spent their time attempting to work out how Tony was dead and buried, for three months. Then suddenly, he reappeared, on the porch of the Lake House, alive. All along, the answer had been right in front of them.   
  
Peter broke one night, while he was visiting from college. He collapsed to the kitchen floor in a heap, sobbing out non-sensual apologies and explanations. It took a while for Tony to make sense of what he was saying but when he did, the universe fell around him.   
  
Tony tried, he’d exhausted every possibility to save Peter’s soul, but to no prevail. Peter was _clever_, he made sure that no one else could strike a deal to save his life. His death was locked in, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.  
  
Peter was given ten years. A decade to _live_ his life. After that time was up, the hellhounds would tear him apart.  
  
At first, everyone was _angry_. It didn’t take them long to realise that their anger would never amount to anything. If they let their rage dictate their time left with Peter, they’d regret it. 

Peter dropped out of college, and they decided, in the time they had left, they had to make sure he lived every day to the fullest. Behind the scenes, with Strange, Tony kept trying to find a way to save him, but there was _nothing_.  
  
They went on adventures around the world. They even took a few trips out into _space_ with Carol, Thor and the Guardians.  
  
Tony watched Peter grow into the man that he knew he would be, but it hurt to see knowing he’d never made it past twenty-six.

Importantly, they gave Morgan memories of her brother, that she could treasure for a lifetime.  
  
The years turned to months, and months turned into weeks, in the blink of an eye. Peter’s final days were a celebration of his life. Everything he had accomplished. The memories they made. Tony couldn’t help that hefixatedon what Peter could have done if his life wasn’t selfishly cut short.  
  
Peter had decided, early on, that he wanted to be _alone_ when it happened. It would happen in the woodlands that surrounded the Lake House. He didn’t want his family to see, he wanted them to remember him as he was.  
  
Peter’s final day, was normal. It was what he wanted, he didn’t want an extravagant goodbye that would hurt too much. They had a Barbecue at the Lake House and they all spent the day teasing one another.

When it came to the end, reality crashed around them. Goodbye hugs and well-wishes lasted longer. Silence fell over them. Everyone who stepped out of the Lake House got into their cars, and droveway knew, that it was the last time they’d ever see Peter.  
  
Morgan, now fourteen, refused to let go of her brother. She held him as close as she could, with her legs folded around his middle as she sobbed against his shoulder. In the end, Tony and Pepper had to pry her off.   
  
Ned, Peter’s best friend and _Guy In The Chair_, was now, also a father, to one-year-old Benjamin. The infamous pair did their signature handshake, for the last time. Peter bent down to press a kiss against his nephew’s forehead. Ned left, hand-in-hand with his wife, Betty, and Ben cradled in his arms.  
  
Michelle tucked a drawing in Peter’s pocket, and whispered to him, words Tony knew weren’t his to hear.   
  
From then on, the goodbyes blurred into one.

Tony watched on, with his arms crossed over his chest and tears in his eyes.  
  
May went _last_. She leant her forehead against his and muttered soft apologies, before pressing a long kiss against his forehead. She pressed a hand to his cheek, and gently muttered, “_My boy._”   
  
Tony stayed. It was the plan, always had been. Peter didn’t deserve to be alone on his final night. They curled up together on the couch, Peter had fallen asleep with his head on Tony’s lap.  
  
As Tony twiddled Peter’s curls around his fingers, time ceased to make sense.  
  
In an instant, _years_, collapsed, into minutes. Ten to be precise.   
  
Peter stood out on the porch, taking in the view. The sun was setting, and soon, Peter would be _gone_. Tony stepped out, hovering by his side. Peter moved, leaning his head against his mentor’s upper arm as he let out a slow breath. Tony wished this moment could last _forever_. It didn’t feel like the end. It felt like a normal day, that’s why he hated it. If Peter was going to die, then the universe, at least owed him the common decency to mourn.  
  
Peter reached over, squeezing a shaking hand around Tony’s wrist, “I have to go.”  
  
Tony dipped his head down, as a weight pushed heavily against his chest. Peter made a move, but Tony grabbed his wrist, “Don’t.” He begged, his voice hoarse. Peter tilted his head to his shoulder, staring at him with blood-shot eyes, “Stay with me.”   
  
Peter shook his head, “Tony…”  
  
“You don’t have to do this alone, kid.”   
  
“I do.”  
  
Tony’s throat seized, “This is my fault.”  
  
“This was my choice.” Peter cried as he stepped closer, grabbing Tony’s hand, “And I don’t regret it.”  
  
“Peter…”  
  
“What?” Peter laughed humorlessly, “I don’t. It was worth it.”  
  
Tony’s stomach lunged, “Your entire life, for the end of mine. How is that worth it?”  
  
“The _end_?” Peter blinked tears away, “ I know what it’s like growing up without parents. If you can’t remember them…” He held out his arm, “There are pieces. Questions you can’t have answered. I couldn't…” He stumbled over his words, “I couldn’t do that to Morgan, not when I could do something about it.”  
  
“Not this.”  
  
“Yes, _this_.” Peter said firmly, as his voice wavered, “It’s already done, Tony. This is happening now…” He paled and he snapped his head back.   
  
Tony could feel him trembling under his hand, “Kid, what is it?”   
  
Peter looked back, fear swimming in his eyes, “I can hear them.” By them, he meant the hellhounds. Peter’s watch buzzed, he clicked it, “Four minutes.”  
  
Tony pulled on Peter’s arm, in a desperate attempt to keep him safe, “I don’t want you to be alone.”  
  
“And I don’t want you to see this.” Peter chorused back, “I have to do this on my own, Tony. You’ve gotta be strong, for…” He bit down on his lip as he let out a pained breath, “Don’t give up, please. I need to know that you’ll be happy.”

Tony knew he never truly be happy ever again, but Peter only had moments left, “I’ll try.”   
  
Peter grabbed Tony’s hand, holding them up, “Don’t blame yourself.” Tony couldn’t hold back a slight scoff, “I’m serious, because I’ll haunt you if you do.”   
  
Tony leapt forward, dragging him into a hug. Peter folded his arms around his back, swaying back and forth, as they held one another.  
  
“Okay, okay...” Peter leaned back, looking at him, eye-to-eye. Tony placed a kiss in Peter’s curls before cupping his cheek, “Stay here.” Peter pleaded, “I’ll be alright.”   
  
_No_, Tony couldn’t let him do this one his own. “Peter....” Peter extended his arm, revealing his web-shooter, “No.” He pressed down on it, the web caught around Tony’s wrist, sticking him to the banister of the porch, “Peter!”  
  
Peter squeezed Tony’s other hand as he smiled, tears glistening in his eyes, “Goodbye, Tony.” Peter let his hand fall away, and he sprinted into the woodland. 

He didn’t look back, not even for a _moment_.  
  
Tony didn’t stop screaming his name, like a mantra. He pulled against the webbing but he couldn’t escape. He watched as his kid disappeared in the trees. 

Tony's plea died in his throat, as the daunting reality settled in his stomach.  
  
He would never see Peter _alive_ again.


	18. Muffled Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter thought it would be an easy night in, after he let Tony, Pepper, May and Happy go out for the evening, on a double date, while he entertained Morgan at his and May’s apartment. However, nothing is Peter’s life was ever easy.

Peter thought it would be an easy night in, after he let Tony, Pepper, May and Happy go out for the evening, on a double date, while he entertained Morgan at his and May’s apartment. _Granted_, he wasn’t sure if he totally understood May and Happy’s budding romance, but they were happy, which was genuinely nice to see. Although, Tony didn’t stop teasing, or joking about it at every given chance.   
  
It was meant to be _easy _night in_,_ right? In Peter’s life, nothing was ever easy. About an hour in, the hairs on the back of his arms stood on end, and dread settled in his stomach.  
  
Morgan tugged his jacket sleeve, “What’s wrong?”   
  
There were voices by the front door, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone picking the lock. Peter leapt into action, he looped his hands under Morgan’s arms and hoisted her up into his, he beelined for the cleaning cupboard and pulled it open.  
  
“Petey?” Morgan squeaked, her voice shaken. Luckily, the cupboard was essentially empty as the vacuum was in Peter’s bedroom, yearning to be used. Peter placed Morgan down in the far corner, and knelt, placing a hand to her cheek.  
  
“I’m sorry, Munchkin.” He apologized softly, the front door rattled, as someone kicked it; Morgan flinched, “I need you to stay here, okay?”  
  
She hiccuped as she clung to his wrist, “Are they the bad guys?”  
  
“Yeah, I think so.” Peter told her, “You have to be super quiet.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, “I’ll be right back.”  
  
Tears glazed over her eyes as she reluctantly let go of his arm, “Okay.”   
  
Peter pressed a kiss against her forehead before stepping out. He closed the cupboard door and tip-toed across the living room. He quietly switched the lamp off and grabbed his web-shooters from the coffee table. The nanotech weaved around his wrist, and he concealed them with the cuffs of his jacket. He tapped his watch and clicked the panic button. Tony would come _running_, until then, he had to keep whoever it was, away from Morgan.  
  
He leant up against the cupboard, knowing there was no time to grab his suit from his bedroom floor. _Damn_ _his secret identity_, he had a sister to protect.  
  
The door crashed open. Two sets of heavy footsteps entered.   
  
“This place is a shithole.” One commented upon entry. He sounded young, a few years older than Peter, maybe. He was _inexperienced_, sounded like he’d never done anything like this before. That worked in Peter’s favour.  
  
“This is the address we were given, Mark.” The other said sharply. His voice was low, ragged, sounded like he’d smoked most of his life. He was older and definitely experienced. That didn’t work in Peter’s favour.

Peter knew he could take them out easily, but he wasn’t in his suit and he couldn’t put Morgan in any more danger than she already was.  
  
“Why would Gargan send us here?”   
  
Peter knew that name, it was one of the criminals who’d been on the Ferry. Last he had heard, he got a life sentence. There were five years left unaccounted, Peter hadn’t taken the time to revise his knowledge on the whereabouts of past felons he’d faced.  
  
“Guess we’ll find out.”  
  
“The guy doesn’t have to be so cryptic.”   
  
“He pays our bills.” _Not_-Mark (Peter had to call him something) snapped, “So, shut your mouth, and look around.”  
  
Peter knew they were closest to his room, and like an idiot, he’d left the suit on his floor in plain view. In his defence, it was rare that someone entered the apartment that didn’t know his secret.  
  
“Hey!” Mark screamed; Peter’s stomach dropped, “Look what I found!”  
  
“Bingo.”  
  
Peter’s leg involuntarily jerked back, kicking the wall, “Shit.”   
  
The bandits charged around, guns raised, they skidded to a halt.  
  
Not-Mark smirked as he jerked his gun towards Peter, “Hey there.”   
  
“Sorry…” Peter took a step forward, “I think you’ve got the wrong apartment.”  
  
Not-Mark raised an eyebrow, and sneered, “I don’t think we do.”   
  
Mark tossed Peter his suit, he caught it in a single swoop, that seemed like a dumb move, “And what does this prove?”   
  
“Pretty quick reflexes you’ve got there, kid.” Not-Mark complimented, “What are you? Fifteen? Sixteen?”  
  
“Seventeen.”  
  
“Still a kid.” He pointed out, “Can’t imagine you’ve been through shit like this before.”  
  
Peter shrugged, half-heartedly, “Rough neighbourhood.”  
  
“You don’t seem scared.”  
  
Peter let out a long breath, “Of you?”  
  
Not-Mark turned his head to the side to conceal his smile, “Give up the act, Spider-Man. We know it’s you.”  
  
Peter laughed humorlessly, “You think I’m Spider-Man?” He squeezed the suit in his hand, “This is a cosplay.”   
  
“Pretty accurate cosplay.” Mark praised.  
  
“Thank you.” Peter quipped, “I’m committed.”  
  
“Gargan didn’t send us here for a costume.”   
  
“Doesn’t sound like he sent you with intelligible instructions,” Peter muttered under his breath but he could tell by the anger in their eyes, that they heard him.  
  
A quiet whimper echoed from the cupboard, and Peter couldn’t help himself, his head snapped to look. Worry for his sister pushing against his chest, making it hard to breathe. For a split second, Peter’s sixth sense was off-kilter  
  
_So_, he didn’t notice Mark’s finger pull back on the trigger.   
  
He didn’t realise until the bullet hit his shoulder and his senses were forced to catch up.  
  
Morgan screamed. It was muted, behind the door, but loud enough for everyone to hear.  
  
“Fuck.” Peter cursed as the floor beneath him soften and he collapsed to his knees.  
  
“Petey!” Morgan bellowed as she slapped the palm of her hand against the door.  
  
Non-Mark advanced towards the cupboard, “We’ve got company.”  
  
“You touch her and I’ll _kill_ you.” Peter’s threat was laced with venom. He was surprised. _No, _he was terrified that he meant it. Spider-Man didn’t kill, but Peter Parker might if someone dared lay a finger on Morgan Stark.  
  
He pressed down on his web-shooter, catching Non-Mark’s wrist, and trapping him against the wall. He did the same with Mark, securing him against the opposite wall.   
  
Non-Mark, even in defeat, _grinned,_ “Gotcha, Spidey.”  
  
Peter weakly got up onto his legs as he ignored the pain in his shoulder, “No, you don’t.” He rushed to the cupboard, he pulled it open and hurried inside, slamming it shut behind. He knew they wouldn’t be able to escape the webbing but he wasn’t letting Morgan bear them. His vision blurred and he collapsed in a heap next to his sister,   
  
“Petey…” Morgan bounced up. At first, he thought she was going for a hug, but instead, she pressed her hand against the wound. He was impressed, but also disheartened, that she’d seen him injured so many times, that she’d grown accustomed.   
  
“Hey…” Peter mumbled, "Thank you, Morgs.” He winced, he bit his lip to distract himself.   
  
Morgan choked out a sob, “I’m sorry.”  
  
“No, it’s not your fault.”  
  
Her shoulders trembled as she cried, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”  
  
“You’re not hurting me.” He reassured her, “You’re helping.”   
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.” He brushed a hand through her hair, “I’m proud of you.”   
  
The familiar sound of the thrusters echoed outside the cupboard, followed by three all-too-familiar voices; Tony, Pepper and Rhodey.   
  
Peter reclined his head back as he sighed in relief, “Finally.” He waited until the noise died down before calling out, “Hey, we’re in here!”   
  
The door was yanked open, at considerable force, it was a shock the hinges didn’t break. Tony fell to his knees in front of them, no longer in his suit, “Hey….”  
  
Peter glared at him, jokingly, “What time do you call this?”  
  
Tony rolled his eyes as he placed a hand on Morgan’s back, “Traffic was a nightmare.” He leaned over to look at Peter’s injury, “Let’s take a look, hey?”  
  
Morgan shook her head and shuffled away.  
  
Peter nudged her chin, “Hey.” He cooed, she looked at him, “It’s okay, Munchkin.”  
  
Morgan released his arm, and Tony moved close to investigate.  
  
Pepper rushed into view, panic etched across her face, “Morgan!”  
  
“Mummy!” Morgan jumped to her legs and crashed into Pepper’s open arms.  
  
Pepper picked her up, she let out a startled yelp, “Honey, are you bleeding? Are you hurt?”  
  
“It’s just mine.” Peter called up, “No biggy.”  
  
Pepper looked at him, with wide-eyes, she shook her head at his self-deprecation.   
  
“No biggy, my arse.” Tony scoffed, “But it’s a clean shot.” He pushed curls out of Peter’s eyes, “You’ll live.”  
  
“Oh, no.” Peter mocked; Tony narrowed his eyes in disappointment, “So, did you get them?”  
  
“We got them.” Tony looked to the broken window, “Well, Rhodey’s taken them in.”   
  
Peter swallowed the dread in his throat, “They know who I am.”  
  
“I know.” Tony gently tapped Peter’s cheek in a repetitive motion, “Trust me, they’re not gonna talk.” He jumped to his feet, “Come on then, let’s get to the medbay, Spider-Man.”  
  
Peter flopped against the wall and shot Tony a mischievous smile, “Carry me.”  
  
Tony let out a heavy sigh as he bent down, scooping Peter up into his arms, “You’re lucky I love you.”   



	19. Asphyxiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony didn’t want a confrontation, not when it wasn’t necessary. He hated it whenever he and Peter fought, it felt impossible to breathe. Peter skipped school for a reason, and that’s what Tony needed to work out.

Tony knew Peter wasn’t in danger. He didn’t need to rush out and find him. If he did go flying around, in a blind panic, that would warrant the '_h___e_licopter parent_’ title that Rhodey used liberally.   
  
Peter skipped school.  
  
It was a big deal, obviously. Not as big as some things they had faced, like Thanos. It was a different kind of ‘_big_.’ The kid had a clean record; he got his homework in on time, he had above-average grades, and he balanced his everyday life with his superhero one effortlessly, better than Tony ever had.  
  
Tony didn’t want a confrontation, not when it wasn’t necessary. He _hated _it whenever he and Peter fought, it felt impossible to breathe. Peter skipped school for a _reason_, and that’s what Tony needed to work out.  
  
He anxiously paced around the Parker apartment, waiting for Peter to return home. He _knew_ that he was heading over. May was at work, so Tony was alone, cursed by his paranoia. He reassured her that he was on it, but worry pushed heavy against his chest.  
  
He stopped moving when he heard Peter fumbling for his keys, the kid pushed the door open and flounced into the living room. He was hidden behind a hoodie; the strings had been pulled so tight, that only his eyes, nose, and a few loose curls were visible; his jaw clenched as he skidded to a halt, “What are _you _doing here?”  
  
“I needed a cup of sugar.” Tony mocked as he locked his hands behind his back, “May called.” He said, sterner this time. Peter gritted his teeth as he angrily stared at the floor, “So did Ned and Michelle. Midtown too. No one knew where you were.”  
  
Peter raised his eyebrows, “Except from you?” He growled, as he mindlessly lifted the carpet with his foot.  
  
“Don’t forget Morgan and_ all _her classmates.”  
  
Peter’s face paled, he stared up at him, with wide-eyes.

This was a_ fiasco,_ the headline to this whole day that Tony couldn’t wrap his head around.

“Well, her entire school actually.” Tony continued, “You make quite the headline, Spider-Man.”  
  
Peter wasn’t stupid when it came to being Spider-Man. He didn’t flaunt his powers or gloat. This wasn’t selfish _either_. Actually, out of context, it was very neighbourly. Peter dropped in at Westwood Elementary, Morgan’s school, to say ‘hi'. Tony thought it was enduring, but it happened on the day Peter skipped school. He didn’t intend on visiting. Actually, according to the suit’s tracker, he’d been a block away from Westwood, all day. He didn’t leave until the end of Morgan’s school, and Pepper came to pick her up.   
  
Something was _wrong_.   
  
“Do you mind telling me why you skipped school to drop in at Westwood?” Tony asked, “Kudos, kid. They loved seeing their Friendly-Neighborhood Spider-Man. Pepper isn’t looking forward to all the admin she has to do now.”  
  
Peter pulled the cuffs of his hoodie over his hands, “Huh?”  
  
“That visit wasn’t safeguarded.”  
  
“And?” Peter shrugged, “Spider-Man isn't dangerous.”  
  
“I know, kid, but it helps to be cautious.”   
  
“Sorry.” Peter muttered hoarsely, he loosened the strings of his hoodie, “I’ll help Pepper with the work.”  
  
“Sure.” Tony nodded, he moved closer, “So, you gonna tell me what’s going on?”  
  
Peter swayed on his feet as he kept his eyes locked on the floor, “It’s nothing.”  
  
“Pete, you don’t skip school for nothing,” Tony said, warily.   
  
“You’re saying that like you never did?” Peter quipped he stared up at him with an accusing glare.  
  
“See, this is why I purposely said _you._” Tony said, in his defence, “Anyway, if I skipped school, it was because I was drunk.” He gestured to Peter, “You can’t get drunk, so that’s out of the equation.” Peter kept his eyes down, as he clumsily shuffled side-to-side. Tony took unconsciously moved closer, “Peter?”  
  
Peter looked up, panic glistening in his eyes, “What?!” His next inhale was sharp and unnervingly ragged. He brought a shaking hand to his chest as he violently gagged.   
  
Tony sped over, catching him as he collapsed to his knees, “Hey, hey, hey.”   
  
He manoeuvred his arms from under Peter’s arms, so he could look him in the eyes, “Kid?” He pulled Peter’s hood down, revealing his sweat-ridden hair. He brushed his fingers against his cheek. He was red hot, he was practically_ roasting_ in his hoodie. Tony wouldn’t be surprised if this was heat-stroke, “What’s wrong?”  
  
Peter stared at him in desperation, “I can’t--”  
  
“I’ve got you.” Tony stood up, he held Peter’s arms up, and pulled his rucksack off, tossing it to the side. He then, as quickly as he could, pulled his hoodie off over his head. Peter let out pained winces as he did so, but Tony’s view was obstructed and couldn’t see why the kid was crying out.  
  
Tony froze as he threw the hoodie behind him; Peter’s neck was covered in dark bruises, Tony couldn’t find a patch free from injury, but he could see the evidence of where someone had wrapped their hands around his kid’s throat and hadn’t let go. Bile threatened to rise in his throat as he realised, if Peter wasn’t Spider-Man, he’d be dead.  
  
Peter flapped his arm around haphazardly, “Mr. Stark…” He gasped, “I can’t breathe.” These injuries weren’t new, they were a day old at least. Peter’s respiratory issues weren’t only attributed to his injuries. It was also his panic, and how hot and bothered he’d become in his hoodie.  
  
“It’s okay, kid.” Tony rushed to the disregarded rucksack, “I’ve got an idea.” He unzipped it and pulled out the Spider-Man mask. He knelt, and gently guided it over Peter’s head, he activated the built-in respirator. Peter’s ragged breaths came to an abrupt end, he collapsed forward, boneless. His forehead pressed against Tony’s shoulder, it was worrying how still and calm he suddenly was, “Peter?”  
  
“Thank you,” Peter muttered breathlessly.   
  
Tony let out a sigh of relief, as wrapped an arm around him, “No problem, kiddo.”  
  
“I’m sorry.” Peter cried, “I was scared…”  
  
Tony’s heart yearned as he rubbed Peter’s arm, “Scared?” Peter leaned back and pulled the mask off, Tony’s eyes went straight to the gallery of bruises peppered on his neck, “Who did this to you, kid?”  
  
Peter sniffled as he combed the mask through his fingers, “Some guys at school.”   
  
“I thought you promised if this kept happen--”  
  
“It’s not that easy.” Peter interrupted, guilt shining his eyes.  
  
Tony took his wrist, anchoring him, “Why not?”  
  
Peter’s shoulders trembled as he sobbed, “They told me I couldn’t tell anyone….”  
  
“But, oh…” Everything came together, piece-by-piece, in that moment, “They said they’d hurt Morgan.”  
  
Peter’s throat cracked “I knew they were bluffing but…” He held out a hand, “The only time she’s not with us, is when she’s at school and I just…”  
  
“Wanted to keep her safe.”  
  
“I wasn’t planning to swing in…” Peter explained, “But she...um, she noticed me. I couldn’t let her down, you know?”  
  
“I know.” Tony eased, he knew how committed Peter was as an older brother, he’d move heaven and earth for her, “Kid, I would never let anyone hurt your sister….”  
  
“I know that…” Peter blurted, “It’s just...my fault.”  
  
Tony shook his head, as he carefully threaded his fingers in Peter’s curls, “You thought we’d blame you?” Peter didn’t react, but his silence spoke volumes, “Peter, these kids do shit like this to you….”  
  
“I knew you wouldn’t blame me.”  
  
“Then what is it?”  
  
“I can fight back and I don’t…” Peter’s lower lip quivered, “I could hurt them.” Tony squeezed his hand, “Tony, I could _kill_ them. I hate this. I...don't want my powers.”  
  
Tony sighed, “Peter…”  
  
“I don’t.” Peter whimpered, “I can break someone’s jaw without even thinking about it.” He wiped his free arm over his face, “But when I hold Morgan’s hand or hug someone, or sleep in the same bed as MJ, my mind is screaming at me, not to hold on too tight…Because I could hurt them.”  
  
Tony_ hated _this.   
  
Peter lived his life in fear of hurting someone with powers he didn’t even ask for. Some people would spend their lives trying to be as physically strong as they can, and then there was Peter, who was trying his best to be as weak as he possibly could, so he could hold people he loved without fear.  
  
“Kid, you know your strength….”  
  
Peter shook his head, “Not all the time.”  
  
“Well, we can work on that, hey?” He reassured him, “First, we’re going to sort this out…” He said, pointing to Peter’s neck.  
  
“Okay.” Peter melted into his arms, loosely locking his arms around him.  
  
Tony pressed a kiss against his temple as he held him, “I’ve got you, kid."


	20. Trembling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Pepper host a Halloween Party. 
> 
> It was the first ‘group occasion’ Peter and Michelle attend as a couple, so it's the perfect excuse for Tony to tease them at any given opportunity.

It was Morgan’s idea to host a Halloween party.   
  
She didn’t fancy going trick or treating. She simply wanted to ‘scare’ people in her witch costume, from the comfort of her own home. Tony couldn’t be prouder.  
  
Almost everyone came, including Clint and Scott’s family; Thor, the Guardians and Carol were busy dealing with ‘space stuff’ but sent their apologies.  
  
It was _amusing_ to see the team stood around in an assortment of costumes, however, Tony’s eyes were drawn to Peter. The kid was avoiding him, he had been all night. He wasn’t angry, he was trying to avoid embarrassment and Tony’s well-rehearsed ‘dad jokes.’   
  
Michelle was with him, it was there first ‘group occasion’ as a couple, so it was a perfectly good excuse for Tony to tease them at any given opportunity. Ned was meant to come too, Tony had overheard Peter begging his friend to distract Tony all night long, but Ned had come down with the flu and couldn’t make it.   
  
_So,_ Tony could mock him at any given time; Michelle was on Tony’s side, she thought it was hilarious while Peter thought it was mortifying.   
  
The couple were wearing matching costumes, which was the cherry on top. They were dressed as Romeo and Juliet from the party scene in the _1996_ movie, it fit their need to be enduringly _nerdy_ at all times. Peter was in chainmail, while Michelle was in a white dress, with angel wings. The idea came from Michelle, because due to the story’s twisted themes, with violent and murderous feuds, that ended with the suicide of star-crossed lovers, it was, _of course_, her favourite movie of all time.  
  
The pair were running around after the kids, Tony didn’t envy Peter, charging around at _superhuman_ speeds weighed down by his choice of outfit. It didn’t seem to phase him in the slightest.  
  
Tony couldn’t hold back a slight _sniffle_ as he watched the couple interact with the kids. They were holding hands as they crouched down on the grass outside the cabin, explaining the rules of _Hide and Seek_ to the group of children surrounding them. Peter was pressing a gentle hand to Morgan’s hip as she was flailing around excitedly, Michelle was doing the same with Nathaniel, who was as equally as thrilled.   
  
They looked grown up together, they even functioned as a couple better than some adults did. Tony hated to admit it, but there was something almost _parental_ about the way they were interacting with the kids. Tony knew he was jumping the gun, they were years away from having children of their own. However, that didn’t stop him from seeing it, which was equally as terrifying.   
  
Tony turned away when tears started to fill his eyes. He strode to the buffet table, with his head held high; he bit down on his lip, ignoring the fact that he’d spent five minutes getting worked up about Peter and Michelle potentially becoming _parents _one day.  
  
The thought stayed with him as he grazed through the snacks. The couple were _years away_ from having kids of their own, but at the same time, they weren’t.

They graduated in a few months, and then they were off to college. They could have a baby in the next ten years, perhaps even less than that.

Morgan, most likely, would still be a teenager if and when they did. _Now_, that put it into perspective.

Tony didn’t know why he was freaking out because it was unjustified panic about something that wasn’t even happening. 

_Times changed, situations shifted. _There was a chance that Peter and Michelle wouldn't even stay together. If they did, they might not even_ want _kids.   
  
Nothing Tony told himself stopped him from _fretting _over the idea. It felt almost selfish because he knew why he felt like this; he didn’t want Peter to grow up.   
  
He wanted him to always be_ his_ kid. After five years without him, Tony felt safer when the kid was within his sights. As time went by, he knew he had to learn to let go.   
  
The first step was _college,_ which he was dreading. Whatever came next, he had to live with, no matter how much it would hurt.   
  
“Peter!” Michelle’s panic-stricken voice pulled Tony right out of his head.   
  
The conversations around him stopped, almost instantaneously as they all turned to see what was going on.  
  
Michelle was stood by the side of the lake, _dangerously_ close to the ledge, as she stared down. She had her arms outstretched to the sides, keeping all the kids behind her.   
  
Tony leapt forward, running as fast as he could. It was easy to see what had happened.   
  
Peter had fallen into the lake, and he was wearing double his weight in chainmail.  
  
The future could wait, his kid needed him _now._  
  
Michelle started to fumble with her wings, she was going to_ jump_ in after him.  
  
“MJ, No!” Tony screamed, “Stay here!” He didn’t wait for her reaction as he took one last deep breath and dived in.  
  
He couldn’t see under the water. _So_, he swam down, frantically feeling around.   
  
_Luckily_, it wasn’t long until his hand brushed against Peter’s shoulder.  
  
He wrapped a strong arm around Peter’s front and pulled him to the surface. He could hear people shouting over each other in a frenzy, but he could only concentrate on trembling kid in his arms.  
  
Peter was facing the same direction as Tony, so he couldn’t see his face, “Peter?”  
  
Peter heaved as water trailed out of his mouth, he doubled over, as the quiet retches turned to violent coughs as he brought up the contents of the lake and all the candy he’d consumed throughout the night.  
  
“You’re alright, kid.” Tony reassured him, as he squeezed his arm, “Let it all out.”   
  
Peter leaned his head against Tony’s shoulder as he panted through uneven breaths, “Thank you.” He muttered, almost inaudible.   
  
“No problem, kiddo.” Tony locked a firm arm around the kid as he swam back to the edge.  
  
Rhodey and Michelle were knelt nearby, holding out their arms to help. Tony lifted Peter to the best of his ability, and the pair pulled him out of the water. Clint hurried over to help Tony out, but he ignored everything Clint said, as he focussed on what was happening with Peter.  
  
Rhodey pulled the chainmail off as quickly as he could, leaving the kid sat in his under armour.   
  
Michelle moved, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend, to keep him warm. She rocked him, back and forth, as she cradled him close and muttered in his ear. Peter moved his head, pressing it on her chest as he locked his shaking hands around her supportive arms.  
  
Pepper and May rushed over, wrapping Peter in more blankets than Tony could count.   
  
As soon as Tony’s feet touched the ground, he charged over, kneeling in front of the pair, “Hey, kid, how are you feeling?”  
  
“Better,” Peter mumbled as Michelle brushed a hand through his wet hair.  
  
“What happened?” Clint asked, hovering closeby.  
  
“Nathan tripped over.” Michelle told them, “We rushed over to see if he was okay, and Peter slipped into the lake.”   
  
Tony reached forward, pressing a kiss in Peter’s curls, and another on Michelle’s forehead, as he grinned.   
  
It was a terrifying thought, but he knew that these two, would one day be fantastic parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Michelle's outfits were inspired by this [Manip](https://www.instagram.com/p/B29ERA9A_Uz/)


	21. Laced Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There are two goblets in front of you. One contains a deadly poison, for which there is no cure. The other is just water. All the liquid from both goblets must be drunk, but each of you may only drink from a single goblet.”
> 
> [Inspired by BBC Merlin, 1x11]

Peter was asked to follow a set of rules. They were simple, really.   
  
Tony had been receiving death threats for over a month and he brushed them off effortlessly, claiming that he’d received so many in the past, that they didn’t scare him anymore. 

There was a bark, but never a bite.   
  
Peter was told to stay away from it. To continue with his day-to-day life, acting like nothing was wrong. Actually, Tony made him promise not to even _think_ about the situation. It wasn’t something he needed to dwell on.   
  
_Of course_, Peter did the exact opposite. He got too close and was snatched from the streets, without his suit, in the dead of night.  
  
He was trapped, he wasn’t sure where. It looked like a police interrogation room, but there wasn’t a two-way mirror hung on the wall. He wasn’t handcuffed, or even shackled. He had free-reign but he couldn’t escape. They were clever, they had every single base covered. If he stepped a toe out of line, they’d kill him on the spot. Not even his powers could protect him now.  
  
He sat at the end of a table, nervously bouncing his legs as he tried to figure out what to do next. There were two goblets in front of him, that he had been told not to touch. There was a man in the corner, watching over him; he was wearing a mask, so Peter had no idea what he looked like. They hadn’t spoken yet. Peter was nervous, and the man didn’t seem like much of a conversation starter.  
  
Peter perked up when he heard Tony’s familiar rambling echo from outside. There were two possibilities; either Tony had come to save Peter, or he had been captured too; Peter prayed that it was the former.  
  
The door was kicked open, as another masked figure, dragged a reluctant and feisty Tony in, by the scruff of his jacket. _So_, it turned out to be the latter.   
  
Tony stopped his retaliation when his eyes found Peter. He shook his head, as panic etched over his face, “Peter?”  
  
“Hey, Tony,” Peter muttered back.  
  
The man who brought Tony in, turned and left.  
  
“No…” Tony scanned the room, frantically, until he found the masked man looming in the corner, “Let him go.” He barked, pointing over to Peter, “You want me, right?” He asked, bouncing his fist off his chest, “That’s what all this is about. Let my kid go, and I’ll do whatever you want.”  
  
“I cannot let him go.” The man spoke, his voice was raspy and emotionless; Peter flinched, and he even noticed Tony take an unconscious step back.  
  
“Why not?!” Tony spat.   
  
“Because he is part of my test.”  
  
A shiver shot up Peter’s spine, paralysing him; he fidgeted, knotting his fingers around the loose threads of his ripped jeans.   
  
“No…” Tony snapped, “Peter’s not part of anything. He’s a kid, now let him go or I swear--”  
  
“If you refuse, we’ll kill him.” The man threatened, still monotone.  
  
Tony stepped closer, ready to fight, “No…”

“Tony…” Peter’s throat cracked as he called over. Tony turned, Peter shook his head as he dotted his eyes around the room, overwhelmed by impending dread.  
  
“Okay…” Tony breathed, realising they could be_ killed _at any minute, he closed the distance between them, “Hey, kid.” He reached out, cupping Peter’s cheek, and he ran his other hand through his curls, “We’re gonna get out of here.”  
  
Peter leaned into his touch, “I’m sorry.” 

Tony tapped his cheek as he circled the table and leaned back into the chair, “Next time I tell you to stay away from this, will you listen?”   
  
Peter nodded, as he leaned against the table, “I’ll try.”  
  
Tony raised his eyebrows, “You’re grounded.”  
  
Peter stifled a quiet laugh, “Okay.”  
  
Tony turned his head, staring at the masked-man, with narrowed eyes, “So, what is this then?” Tony asked, “What do you want?”  
  
“There are two goblets in front of you.” The man gestured, Peter stared at the goblets, as his heart thumped in his chest, “One contains a deadly poison, for which there is no cure.” Tony grimaced as he shook his head, “The other is _just_ water. All the liquid from both goblets must be drunk, but each of you may only drink from a single goblet.”  
  
“No.” Tony tilted his ear to his shoulder as he chewed his lip, and glared at the figure, “Why are you doing this?”  
  
“To test you.”  
  
Tony reclined his head, “What kind of test is this?” He waved a hand between him and Peter, “You wanna _kill_ one of us.”  
  
The figure motions to the goblets, “I want to see what you’ll do.”  
  
“You…” Tony’s words died in his throat, as he turned, looking to Peter, “How many?  
  
Peter’s forehead creased, “How many what?”  
  
“Snipers.” Tony shrugged, “Or whatever they’re using against us.”  
  
“I don’t know.” Peter blurted, as he looked around, “Too many to count.”  
  
Tony cursed, as he leaned back in his chair, “Okay…”   
  
“Tony.” Peter pulled in closer toward the table, he moved his hand forward, “I’ll drink mine.”  
  
Tony reached over, slapping his hand away, “You could die.”  
  
Peter let out a swallow breath as a lump formed in his throat, “So could you.” He scraped his teeth against his lower lip, “Morgan needs you…”  
  
“Shut up.” Tony interrupted sternly.   
  
Peter blinked tears away, “Tony…”  
  
“I mean it, kid, shut up!” Tony bellowed, though his tone remained gentle, “Don’t you dare try and tell me that my life is worth more than yours.”  
  
Peter hugged his arms around his chest, “I know what it’s like losing a parent…”  
  
“And I know what it’s like losing a kid.” Tony fought back, a sob caught in his throat, “Remember?” He stared at him until they were looking each other in the eye, I lost you, Pete. You were gone, for five years.” Even though Peter was surrounded by proof of the time he missed, he often forgot he had been gone so long because everyone made sure he fit back in, “I still can’t believe that we got you back. So, _no_, I’m not doing that again, you hear me?”  
  
Peter let out a desperate cry, “I can’t lose you too.” This couldn’t happen _again_. Not after his parents, and Ben. Peter wiped tears away with the back of his sleeve, “We have to do this.”   
  
“No, we don’t…” Tony’s eyes widened in alarm, as he looked at something behind Peter, “What’s that?!”  
  
Peter’s senses were already screaming, so terror pressed heavily against his chest as he turned to look. The air was knocked from his lungs when he realised that there was nothing there. He twisted his head back around, and everything slowed down; Tony had grabbed Peter’s goblet and poured the contents in his own, which didn’t break the rules of the _game_.   
  
“Tony, no!” Peter screamed as he scrambled forward trying to grab it, or at least, knock it over, “What are you doing?!”  
  
Tony smiled at him, with teary-eyes, “I love you, kid.” Before Peter could move, Tony downed the contents of the goblet and slammed it back down on the table.  
  
“No…” Peter hiccuped as he sat there in shock, waiting for the impossible to happen, “What did you do?”  
  
Tony’s smile faltered, as his eyes twitched shut, he swayed before crashing down on the ground in a lifeless heap.  
  
“No!” Peter sobbed as he leapt to his feet, “Tony? Tony…” He chanted desperately, as he fell to his knees beside him, “Tony, please. Wake up, please!” He combed his fingers back through his hair, which Tony usually did to comfort him, “Tony!” He shook his shoulder and turned to the masked-man, he knew he was one who had done this, but it was the only option he had, “Help him, please.”  
  
“Don’t worry, son.” The man sneered, “He’ll be fine. He’s only consumed a fast-acting sleeping draught.”  
  
Peter’s eyebrows knitted together as he cradled Tony’s hand, “I don’t understand.”  
  
“Killing Tony Stark isn’t enough.” The man explained as he walked to the door, “Not for what we want.”  
  
Peter looked up at him, fearing the answer, “And what do you want?”  
  
“It’s simple, really.” The man shrugged, “We want him to suffer in every way imaginable. To hurt someone like him, you must strike where it hurts most.”  
  
Peter held back another sob, as he realised what the man meant. He and his minions were looking for a way to _hurt_ Tony, in the worst way imaginable. Tony would die willingly, and wouldn’t care, that was obvious. If someone hurt or killed the people Tony loved, that was something else. That was torture, that would tear Tony apart, piece-by-piece. That’s why the group took Peter, to test Tony’s love and compassion for those around him.  
  
They got what they wanted, and they weren’t done yet. This wouldn’t be the last they would see of them.  
  
“They’ll find you,” Peter warned, as the man pulled the door open.  
  
“We’re counting on it.” The man quipped, “See you around.” He sang, as he slammed the door and sauntered away.   
  
Peter waited until his powers weren’t on high alert anymore. Everyone had left, they were alone, and their lives were no longer in danger, _for now_.   
  
Tony’s hand caught his wrist and pulled it, “Kid?” Peter tucked himself under Tony’s arm and laid his head against his chest; he made himself as small as he could as he latched to his side. “I got you,” Tony muttered as he wrapped an arm around him, “It’s okay.”  
  
Peter thought he’d always be willing to lay down his life for Tony, but this changed his perspective. Dying for Tony would kill him anyway, slowly, and would add to his already weighted guilt-complex. Peter hugged him tightly, knowing that, from now on, he had to _live_ for Tony  
  



	22. Hallucination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony can't remember the last twelve hours, and now, he's trapped in his worst nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two prompts today! Because I thought I published this last night but turns out, I was wrong :)
> 
> WARNINGS: Hallucination (Struggle to tell reality and fantasy apart)

Tony couldn’t remember the last twelve hours.   
  
It wasn’t a hangover, although it did feel like one. He stopped drinking a few months after meeting Peter, and he wore that badge with pride, especially when Morgan came along.  
  
This was different, it was _terrifying_.   
  
He limped up the porch stairs of his house, he had no memory of how he got there. The last thing he remembered was dropping Morgan off at school, and now, he was here. It was night, and even though he was home, it didn’t look right. Like it wasn’t real.  
  
He crashed through the door and stumbled into the kitchen, “Pepper?!” He called desperately. His knees buckled, he caught himself on the countertop, “Pepper!”   
  
The warm familiarity of home, faded, as the walls and surfaces, all started to melt into a pile of black goo. Tony gasped as he backed away, hitting his head against a wall. He spun on his heel, the door was gone. There was nothing. It was dark, but there was a shallow light guiding his path, but he couldn’t see where it was coming from.  
  
“Tony!” Peter’s panic-stricken voice screamed.   
  
Tony’s heart leapt into his throat, “Peter!”  
  
“Tony, please!” Peter shouted, “Where are you?”   
  
“I’m here!” Tony charged forward, frantically searching for his kid. He heard a violet gag echo from behind him, he turned, “Kid...” Peter was sitting on the ground, hugging his arms around his front. He was in the Stark suit, but without his mask. He was rocking, back and forth, as he choked on his own blood. The blue on the suit was no longer visible, not past his multiple lacerations.   
  
Peter glared at him, with a slight sneer, “You lied to me.”   
  
Tony ran forward, but he was knocked back; he held out his hand, and pressed it against an invisible wall between him, and his kid, “Peter!” He slammed his fist against it but it made no difference, “Kid!”  
  
“You promised me you’d come!” Peter screamed.  
  
“I’m here.” Tony told him, as he started to kick the barrier, “I can’t…”  
  
“This is your fault.” Peter coughed, “I never asked for this…”  
  
Tony’s breath hitched as his limbs weakened, “Peter…”   
  
A hand pressed against Tony’s shoulder, and he jolted, as he turned. It was Rhodey, “He’s not wrong, you know?” His friend said, with an accusatory tone.  
  
“Rhodey, help me…” Tony begged as he tugged on his arm, “We gotta get him out.”  
  
Rhodey raised his eyebrows and shook his head, “Peter’s dead, Tones.”  
  
“No, he’s right…” Tony’s words died in his throat when he looked back, and Peter was gone, “Kid? Peter!”  
  
Rhodey grabbed Tony’s wrist, holding it in a merciless grip, “You told him you’d save him.” Tony winced as he tried to pull his hand free, “That kid thought you were a _God_ and you could do no wrong.” He spat, “He knew the truth in the end. Everything that happens to us is on you.”  
  
Tony’s lower lip trembled, as he fought to free his arm, “Rhodey?”  
  
Rhodey let go, and stepped back, “You’ll kill us all.”  
  
“No…” Tony shook his head. A gunshot came from beside Tony, and the bullet hit Rhodey’s chest, “Rhodey!” Tony screamed as his friend collapsed into the abyss. Tony looked down at his shaking hand, within his grasp was the gun, “Oh…” He tossed it away.  
  
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.  
  
A flash on blonde past him, he whipped around to see Pepper, crouched in front of two gravestones. One was covered with vines, and he couldn’t make out the name. The other belonged to Peter; there were flowers by it and a note left by May. Tony tore his eyes away, and focussed on his wife, “Pepper….”  
  
“I told you this would happen.” Pepper cried as she placed a bouquet by the covered grave, “You said you’d stop but you never did.”  
  
Tony knelt beside her, “I’m sorry.”  
  
“This is your fault.” She spat, she stared at him, with dull grey eyes, “You’re Iron Man, _right_? You say it enough. If you weren’t none of this would have happened to us.” She grabbed his shoulder, and whispered, “They’re dead and I blame you.”  
  
Tony reached out with a hesitant hand, tearing away the vines covering the headstone. Blood rushed in his ears, and a weight pushed against his chest, making it impossible to breathe, “No.” He sobbed as he brushed a hand against the engravement, “Morgan…”  
  
“Tony!” Peter screamed again.  
  
Tony shook his head as he rocked onto his knees and covered his ears with his hands, “No.” He closed his eyes, and he begged for this to be over. Whatever it was, he’d had enough.   
  
“Tony…” Peter spoke softly, unlike the times before, “You need to let go.” It sounded like his kid, he wanted to trust him, but it could be a trick to give him a false sense of security,   
  
“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” Tony chanted as he bounced, back and forth.   
  
Peter’s hands gently wrapped around Tony’s arms, “Tony, it’s me. It’s Peter, your Peter.”  
  
“No.” Tony hiccuped as he tried to pull away.  
  
He was no match for Peter’s strength, “Open your eyes…” Peter coaxed, “I’m here.”  
  
Tony couldn’t hold on any longer. He moved his hands away from his ears and opened his eyes. He was home, and this time, it was _real_. He was on his knees, at the bottom of the stairs. Peter was in front of him, in his pyjamas, panic etched over his face.   
  
“Peter?” Tony asked unsurely.  
  
“Hey.” Peter’s throat cracked, as he grabbed Tony’s hand, “You’re okay, you’re home.”  
  
“I…”  
  
“You were drugged.” Peter explained, “You’re alright, Pepper’s on her way, with Rhodey and Happy.”  
  
“You’re here…” Tony launched forward and dragged Peter into his arms.  
  
“What--” Peter cautiously folded his arms behind Tony’s back, “Tony, hey. I’m fine. We’re all okay.”  
  
Tony kissed his temple as he peered over his shoulder; Morgan was stood on the stairs, silent tears running down her cheeks as she cradled her Spider-Man plushie under her arm, “Morguna?” She shifted and looked down at the floor.   
  
“It’s alright, Morgs.” Peter eased, as he held out his hand, “_Dad’s_ okay now.” Tony’s heart stopped; it had been a long day, for all of them.   
  
Morgan stepped down and took her brother’s hand, she sandwiched herself between the pair, as they met in a hug.   
  
Tony didn’t care about what happened, all he cared about were his kids and everything he had to do to keep them safe. 


	23. Bleeding Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan had grown accustomed to finding her brother in terrifying situations. In the eleven years that he’d been part of her life, a considerable amount of their time together, she had spent watching him suffer for what he did. [Endgame Compliant]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS:** Endgame Compliant + MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH 
> 
> (No, seriously, I can't believe I did this....)

**Set eleven years after Endgame** (_Morgan is fifteen, Peter is twenty-seven_) 

After a rather strenuous day at school, Morgan needed to phone Michelle to ask when they were meeting with the rest of the bridesmaids, for a debrief before Peter and Michelle’s big day, and then, she wanted to binge the latest _Star Wars_ series, in her sweatpants, and one of Tony’s old oversized t-shirts.   
  
It was the _perfect_ Friday night.   
  
Pepper had a meeting in Toronto, so Morgan had the house to herself until around ten. She had no school work, considering she was in ninth grade, and already doing eleventh grade work. There was no doubting that she was her father’s daughter, even if she couldn’t remember much about him.  
  
Morgan pulled her rucksack off her back and swung it mindlessly in her hand, as she skipped up the porch stairs, humming a ‘Black Sabbath’ song under her breath.  
  
A ruffling came from closeby. She abruptly stopped in her tracks, at the front door, her hum came to an end and she listened. The Lakehouse was surrounded by woodland. There were no other houses in a two-mile radius. The closest building was the train that she caught for school. It was a good twenty-minute walk, down a dirt road, from the station.  
  
Morgan would know if someone had been following her, she’d be raised by a family of superheroes, she knew how to stay safe. The sound echoed for a second time. It wasn’t the wind, and it certainly wasn’t an animal. It was a _yelp_, a cry for help, and to Morgan, it sounded human. There was only one person who came to the Lakehouse when they were injured. She’d seen them bloodied and bruised too many times to count.  
  
“Peter!” She called as she tossed her rucksack down, and charged down the porch steps, “Peter!”   
  
She had grown accustomed to finding her brother in terrifying situations. In the eleven years that he’d been part of her life, a considerable amount of their time together, she had spent watching him suffer for what he did.  
  
She knew he was Spider-Man, and he was a hero, she’d admired that. Sometimes, she wished, that he’d let it go but would never confess that fear. Being a superhero wasn’t all it was hyped up to be. Morgan couldn’t remember much about her dad, but she could recall the times he told her about Iron Man, and although the stories were fantastical, he didn’t seem happy when he told them. She didn’t realise that until he was_ gone_.  
  
“Peter!” She screamed as she charged around, frantically searching for her brother, “Hello!” She skidded to a halt when she caught sight of Peter’s leg, sticking out from behind a tree, “Hey!”   
  
Peter was propped up against the tree, in his black and red suit, with his arms limply hung by his sides; he was clasping his mask, in his right hand. His skin was pale and sweaty; there were multiple deep cuts on his cheeks, one was dangerously close to his right eye. His hand was pressed against his side, where he was bleeding out. His suit was beyond unrecognizable, it was torn all over, and covered neck-to-toe in lacerations. His eyes were open, but he was staring, lifelessly ahead.  
  
Morgan collapsed to her knees in front of him, “Peter?” She cautiously moved forward, placing her hand over his, attempting to stop the bleeding. He didn’t flinch or even register she was there, “Hey, Peter.” Her voice trembled, her hopeful bravado crumbled, “Can you hear me?”  
  
He blinked, slowly, his eyes met hers, “Morgan?” He choked, his mouth twitched into a half-smile to greet her.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, it’s me.” Morgan stumbled over her words, as she reached out, brushing her other hand back through his curls, “What...what happened?”  
  
Peter grimaced as he struggled to force air into his lungs, “Osborn….” Norman Osborn, _the Green Goblin_. Peter had been fighting him, off and on, for two years. He was dangerous and ruthless. He’d even taken Morgan hostage once when she was twelve. Peter had gotten him arrested multiple times, but nothing worked, the man always had a _way_ out. He threatened everyone Peter loved, from May to Michelle. There was no-one Peter _feared_ more than him.  
  
Morgan let go of his injury and went to stand up, “...I’m gonna get help.”  
  
Peter caught her wrist, with his bloodied hand, and pulled her close, “No...” He shook his head, and looked up at her, with teary-eyes, “Stay with me.”  
  
Morgan pointed back toward the house, “I gotta…”  
  
“Please…” Peter’s breath hitched over a cough as he grasped her hand.  
  
She knew what this was. She could tell, she had known since she found him. This is it, this is how Peter’s story ends, and it’s not _fair_. He was marrying Michelle in three weeks, and they were planning to have kids soon. Everything in Peter’s life was falling into place. He finally had everything he deserved. Especially after all the _shit_, he’d been through since Tony died. Peter had faced more than any other Avenger and he still came out of it all as himself. Her brother was the one who deserved a happy ending, and this wasn’t it. This was an _end_ and it was the opposite of what he deserved.   
  
History was repeating itself. This happened with Tony, and now, it was happening with Peter. Two people, who were selfishly tested by the universe, and when happiness was within their grasp, they were _torn_ away.  
  
Morgan wanted to scream because Peter promised her that he wouldn’t end up like Tony, but this wasn’t his fault and he needed her, “Okay.”   
  
She sat down by his side, “Thank you.” Peter muttered breathlessly, as he leant his head against her shoulder. He stretched out his shaking hand, Morgan took it.  
  
Morgan could hear his chest rattle as he fought for air, his breathing was unrhythmic and desperate, she gently shushed him, as she laid her head on his, and rubbed her thumb across his hand.  
  
“I--” He coughed, “I stopped him.”  
  
“Osborn?”  
  
“Yeah.” He nestled closer to her side, “He...he can’t..hurt.” He winced as he tried to clear his throat.  
  
“He can’t hurt any of us…” Morgan finished for him, as she clutched his hand as tight as she could.  
  
“That’s good…” Peter slurred, “I couldn’t---I couldn't save him….” He choked on a sob, as he reached over with his other hand, taking her arm, “...Tony…” Morgan blinked away tears as she whimpered, “I couldn't save him. No matter what I did…” He let go of a quiet wet laugh, “But I saved you, Morgs, all of...I did it…”  
  
“You did it.” She reassured him, “We’re gonna be okay.”  
  
“I’m sorry, munchkin.” Peter stuttered, “I know..I said…” He took a second to breathe, “I--I _tried_.”  
  
He was apologizing for breaking their promise, the one where he said that being Spider-Man wouldn’t do to him, what being Iron Man did to Tony. Morgan wished she’d never asked him to make that promise because all it did was prolong his suffering. They both knew in their hearts that this would happen.  
  
She tapped his arm, “It’s okay.”  
  
Morgan remembered what her mum told her about Tony’s death. Pepper didn’t beg him to stay or to hold on for a little while longer, because fighting the inevitable, would have hurt him. Peter was fighting for air, and crying out after every other breath. Morgan couldn’t hold on, that was _selfish_, she had to let him go.  
  
“You know, Dad's gonna keep you safe…” She eased, hoping there was truth in that sentiment.   
  
“Yeah…” Peter muttered as his breathing relaxed, and the gaps between each gasp grew longer, “I...I’ll say hello to him…for you…” Peter loosened against her side, as he let out one last peaceful breath, and his hands fell away from hers.  
  
Morgan screamed into the deafening silence as she kept her arm locked around his, “Petey?” She moved to press a kiss in his curls, “I love you…” She confessed, as she tucked his unruly hair behind his ear, “Three thousand.”  
  
_Everybody wants a happy ending, right? But it doesn't always roll that way. _

* * *

"_All I can see is one part of a person’s life, their death. And I saw yours._  
_I see you on your back, there’s blood everywhere._  
_You’re holding your own heart in your hand._"  
** -Yukio, The Wolverine.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried writing this, a lot. It was interesting to see it all come full circle, but wow, I'm....so sorry.


	24. Secret Injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it were up to Tony, he wouldn’t mind having his hand broken for the sake of his kid, but it was Peter’s guilt-complex that concerned him.

There is one rule when it came to taking care of a sick or injured Peter. If he needed an IV put in, a cannula or stitches, basically anything to do with small sharp needles, don’t hold his hand. That might sound selfish but Peter’s grip, when he was scared, could shatter all the bones in your hand. If it were up to Tony, he wouldn’t mind having his hand broken for the sake of his kid, but it was Peter’s guilt-complex that concerned him.   
  
Peter’s strength was unprecedented, and the poor kid was terrified of it. He could dislocate someone’s jaw without even thinking, and that made him cautious, around the people he loved.  
  
Tony saw it with his own eyes, daily.  
  
Peter held Michelle’s hand, all-the-time when they were out and about. Tony would notice how Peter’s grip was loose like he was afraid of hurting her. He carried Morgan like he was scared that he would break her while in return, she latched onto him as tight as possible.  
  
Tony knew that Peter’s could one day marvel his, and that thought was scary enough. _So_, whenever Peter was hurt, Tony had grown accustomed to holding onto his wrist, or upper arm, to comfort him.  
  
It was a solid idea. A way for Tony could take care of his kid without adding to his weighted guilt-complex.  
  
However, sometimes, when tensions were high, Tony forgot to do this.

This was one of those times.

Peter collapsed at the Lakehouse. It wasn’t the first time, and dauntingly, it wouldn’t be the last. He wasn't injured or drugged, he had the flu. Well, it was the _‘I__ was bitten by a radioactive spider and it gave me superpower_s' equivalent to the flu. Tony rushed Peter to the medical facility upstate, leaving Pepper to calm down a frantic Morgan, who had witnessed the ordeal.  
  
Peter was half-conscious the entire journey but had _decided_ to be wide-awake, when it came to having his IV put in. ‘Sleepy Peter’ was difficult to work with, more so than his counterpart, he was argumentative, fragile and super clingy.   
  
Tony, not thinking straight in the moment, took Peter’s hand as the nurse did his job. Tony realised his mistake when Peter squeezed his hand, in an unforgiving grip. Tony didn’t falter, he ignored the pain. He’d been through _worse_. A few crushed bones meant nothing, not when Peter was safe and calm, that was all that mattered. In hindsight, Tony realised Peter could have held his prosthetic hand, and they wouldn’t be in this situation. It was made of vibranium, not even Spider-Man could dent that. It was a spur of the moment decision, to comfort his kid, and Tony wouldn’t take it back.   
  
Peter didn’t know. No one did, not even the medical staff. Tony didn’t need an X-Ray or a professional opinion to know that it was broken. It was squidgy and bruised. He kept ignoring it, he pulled up his jacket sleeve to cover the bruising. _Peter didn’t know_, and Tony was going to keep it that way. He would admit to having a broken hand, but he needed a plausible excuse first. He could hide it until they were home, he'd make up some bullshit about him messing with some of his old cars in the workshop. All he needed was Friday to back him up, and everything would be fine.  
  
After that dilemma, Peter promptly passed out. That was what the medical team had expected, and he was well on his way to recovery.

He slept like a log, snoring peacefully. With the nurse’s permission, Tony carefully moved the kid and hopped onto the bed, squeezing next to him. He manoeuvred Peter until he was comfortably latched onto his side. Peter’s head was laid against Tony’s chest, and his legs were clumsily sprawled across the end of the bed.  
  
Tony combed his prosthetic hand back through Peter’s curls, while he let the other hand limply by his side.   
  
Peter’s face scrunched up, as he started to come to, he stretched out his legs, “Tony?”  
  
“Hey, kiddo,” Tony spoke softly, trying to hide the wobble in his voice. Broken hands hurt more than he remembered but he wasn’t going to let the pain consume him, Peter was his only concern, “How are you feeling?”  
  
Peter let out an exaggerated hum as he formed his answer, “...Floaty.”   
  
“Yeah, that makes sense." Tony snorted a laugh, You’re on a lot of drugs, bud.”  
  
Peter shook his head, “No.” He hiccuped sleepily, “Drugs are bad.”  
  
Tony broke into a series of uncontrollable giggles, “Not those kinda drugs, Pete.” _Oh, this kid. _Tony wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve him.   
  
“What kind?”  
  
“The_ Super-Soldier_ kind.”   
  
“Oh.” Peter squeaked unsurely, “Did...Did I get hurt?”  
  
“Not this time.” Tony told him, “You’ve got the flu, kid.”  
  
“Ehhhh.” Peter groaned, in disgust, “That sucks….” His face paled, and he attempted to shuffle away from Tony’s side, “You...you...should go, it’s...contagious.” _See, immediate guilt_.  
  
“Don’t worry.” Tony said, pulling him back to his side, “I’m immune.”   
  
Peter’s eyes widened, as he settled, “You are?”   
  
“I can’t catch super-flu.” Tony shrugged, “I don’t have powers.”  
  
“Oh, yeah.” Peter’s eyes drooped shut as his fatigue caught up with him, “That’s boring.”   
  
“I know.” Tony raised his eyebrows as he bent down, and pressed a kiss in Peter’s curls, as he drifted back off to sleep, “So boring.”   
  
Tony would_ never_ let Peter know what he did. The kid wasn’t at fault. It was second nature for him to hold on so tight, especially for someone who jumps building-to-building every day. He’d been delirious, and unable to control his actions. Tony couldn’t protect Peter from the flu, but he could from this. Given the circumstances, Tony considered that a win.


	25. Humiliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Field Trip Trope (with the added bonus of Morgan Stark, a redeemed Flash, Spideychelle and a loveable friendship between my new favourite trio, Peter, Ned and MJ.) And, of course, Iron Dad but that's a given!

“I can’t find it.” Peter concealed his panic in a single groan, as he buried his hand into his backpack, rummaging around for his identification badge. He internally chanted a proverb in his head, _this day can’t get any worse_.   
  
He had been dreading his field trip to the new and approved Avengers Headquarters, for a month now.   
  
It wasn’t the trip that mattered. It was the _destination_.   
  
Peter didn’t mind spending time at the Headquarters since it opened, he’d been a frequent visitors. Even before that, he and Tony bunked over for a few nights during construction. Usually, Peter would be delighted to be there.

The real problem was his class. Particularly, Brad Davis, whose only goal in life seemed to be making Peter’s life a living hell.  
  
“What?” Michelle asked, as Peter frantically flipped through his book, “Hey, loser. What can’t you find?”  
  
“My badge.” Peter faltered, panic pressing on his chest, “Shit. Happy’s gonna kill me.” Michelle nonchalantly dug her hand into her jacket pocket and pulled out Peter’s gold and red badge, “Oh.”  
  
“You left it at mine.” She tucked it into his pocket on his flannel, “You’re helpless.”  
  
Peter scoffed as he raised his eyebrows, “You’re amazing.” He leaned up on his tip-toes and pressed a quick kiss against her cheek.  
  
“Eh...” Flash faked an exaggerated gag as he gestured to them, “You two are vomit-inducing.”  
  
“Thanks, Eugene,” Michelle said, deadpan.   
  
Ned rushed over, flustered and out of breath, “Hey.”   
  
Peter’s forehead creased, “Um, where were you?”  
  
“Brad stopped me.” Ned pointed back at the small cluster of students behind them - Brad’s clique, “He’s a little..”  
  
“Ignorant?” Michelle stated, monotone, “Tedious? Arrogant?”  
  
Ned’s eyes narrowed as he watched her, “Yeah…” He said hesitantly, “He’s angry too ...at…” His focus turned to Peter, “You.”   
  
Peter let out a fractured sigh, “Of course he is.”  
  
“He’s telling everyone that we’re lying about…”  
  
“The internship?” Peter finished, “That doesn't make sense. Brad’s one of the ones who has seen me with Tony.”  
  
“You think that matters to him?” Michelle asked. _Well_, she had made a valid point. Brad, was a leader, and most people would listen to him, even if he was twisting the truth.   
  
Brad’s group erupted into a chorus of loud cheers, “Do they ever shut up?” Ned asked as he glared at them.  
  
“Non-blippers are so obnoxious,” Michelle said, half-jokey, half-serious.   
  
“Oh.” Peter snorted a laugh, “Are you being judgemental of the ‘_chosen ones_’?”  
  
Michelle’s face dropped, “Don’t call them that.” She shook as a shiver shot up her spine, “No need to inflate their egos.”  
  
Mr. Harrington clapped his hands together, shutting the class up, “Come on, everyone! We’re against the clock here.” That was true, they were already half an hour late, so much for punctuality.   
  
They shuffled over towards the security gate entrance in a clump.   
  
_“Hello, Midtown.” _Friday greeted. The class looked around, trying to find who was talking, “_I__t is a pleasure to meet all of you. I am Friday. Tony Stark’s trusted artificial intelligence.” _Everyone muttered excitedly between themselves, _“I will be your tour guide today. You have all been given an identification card. They’re four different bands for our security protocol. The lowest band is Spider-Man, reserved for guests and visitors, named after our newest recruit!”_  
  
Ned bit down on his lip to conceal a howl of laughter, even Michelle struggled to hide a slight smile. Peter rolled his eyes as he nudged them, “Shut up.”  
  
_“The highest is, of course, Iron Man, reserved for the Avengers themselves, and family and friends of Mr. Stark. Please proceed, single file, through the security gate, and then the tour can begin.”_  
  
“I’ll go first.” Mr. Harrington said, as he stepped through the gate, and held up his card, which Peter knew from experience, he didn’t need to do. The card just needed to be on his person, and he’d get in.  
  
“_Roger Harrington. Teacher. Clearance: Spider-Man.” _Friday announced as the opposite gate unlocked, and Mr. Harrington stepped in. Brad pushed his way to the front, making him the second through, “_Brad Davis. Student. Clearance: Spider-Man.”_  
  
The rest of the class rushed through, creating a bottleneck. The trio hung back, not wanting to be crushed on the pursuit of entry. One-by-one the class made it through the gates, poor Friday had to repeat the same message again and again.  
  
Ned was the first of the three to bite the bullet and advance through, “_Edward Leeds.”_ Friday said, her voice less robotic than the times before, “_Intern_. _Clearance: Iron Man.” _The whole class stopped what they were doing, and were soon united in their silence. Even Mr. Harrington stared at Ned, with a dropped jaw, “_Hi, Ned! It’s good to see you!”_  
  
Ned let out a nervous laugh as he waved at the machine, “Hey, Fri.”  
  
Michelle shrugged half-heartedly, “Seems easy enough.” She confessed as she let go of Peter’s hand, and stepped through.  
  
“_Michelle Jones. Intern. Clearance: Iron Man.”_ Friday sang as the gate opened, “_Hello, MJ! That book you ordered arrived this morning. Miss. Potts has left it on your desk."_  
  
“Thanks, Friday.” Michelle smiled as she walked through, “I’ll collect it later.”  
  
Peter swallowed the dread in his throat and ignored the glances that he was receiving from his peers, as he walked over the threshold, “_Peter Parker. Underoos.” _Peter rolled his eyes, as confused laughter echoed. Peter was going to get Tony back for this if it was the last thing he did, “_Clearance: Iron Man. Good morning, Peter! Boss wants me to remind you to eat lunch because you skipped breakfast again.”_  
  
“Shut up, Fri.” Peter hissed, as he hurried away.  
  
“Wow, Parker!” Flash held up his hand, for a high-five. Peter took the opportunity, “I’m sorry for doubting ya.” Ever since the blip, Flash’s hostility for Peter faded, and they had a newfound respect for one another.  
  
“It’s okay.” Peter eased as he headed to Michelle and Ned, “I mean I wouldn’t believe me either.”  
  
Michelle bounced her eyebrows up, as she held out a cereal bar, “Here.”  
  
“Ha ha.” Peter chanted emotionlessly.  
  
“Tony’s right, you know?”  
  
“Okay, okay.” Peter took it off her, “Thank you.”  
  
Michelle looped her arm around his, as they proceeded down the corridor. Peter devoured the cereal bar as quickly as he could, and then stuck the wrapper in his pocket. He then leaned over, linking his spare arm with Ned. There would be no third-wheeling on his watch.  
  
Ned was scrolling his phone, while Michelle was off in her head. Peter couldn’t help being nosy, as he started to hear bits and pieces of the conversations happening in front of him.  
  
Brad was whispering into his friend, Jack’s ear, “I’m telling you, he hacked it. Parker’s great with tech.”  
  
“Yeah, man.” Jack scoffed, “Why would interns get top access anyways?”  
  
Peter swallowed the lump in his throat, he dipped his chin to his chest and studied the pattern on the carpet below him. He didn’t want their teasing to ruin his day, but it cut deep. Peter didn’t want to be known as a liar, but he knew that Brad had the status to paint him to be one. Even if when the evidence was staring everyone in the face.  
  
_“Follow the light on the wall.” _Friday perked up, _“We’re starting in the interactive game unit. Where you can test your abilities, and see if you have what it takes to join the Avengers.”_  
  
Their peers rushed ahead, like rapid animals. Michelle tutted as she muttered expletives under her breath, Peter forgot his troubles and barked a laugh as they rounded the corner.  
  
The trio mindlessly paced around, having seen most of the exhibit before, “So…” Ned turned on his heel, “Where’s the Spider-Man stuff?”  
  
“Tony’s still working on it.” Peter told him, “All the suits and stuff was blown up, or you know…” He stumbled as he was reminded of Tony’s life during those five years without him, “...In storage. Some of it Morgan stole, like the jacket to my first suit. She sleeps in it.”  
  
Ned’s face scrunched up, “Isn’t it like burnt?”  
  
“You think she cares?” Michelle asked.  
  
“Friday patched it up.” Peter explained, “Um, and Tony’s gonna make a replica for here.”  
  
“Sick.” Ned hummed as he leaned over to read the plaque under Black Widow’s display.  
  
“I’m gonna get a drink.” Peter said, moving out of their grasp to gesture to the vending machine, “You two want anything?”   
  
“Yeah.” The pair said in perfect harmony.   
  
“Diet Coke.” Peter said pointing to Ned, he then moved his hand over to Michelle, “And sparkling water. I’ve got it.”  
  
Peter skipped over to the machine, he made his selection and scanned his badge. He took the drinks out, and masterfully balanced a can on his arm while holding the two bottles in his hands. _Stupidly_, he kept his attention solely locked onto making sure that he didn’t drop them, which in hindsight, surrounded by people like Brad Davis, wasn’t the greatest idea.   
  
Peter tripped over Brad’s outstretched foot, he toppled onto the laminate floor below. Peter was lucky that his arms had been folded against his chest as they broke his fall and stopped him from either a monstrous concussion or a broken nose.   
  
“Peter!” Ned screamed as he rushed to help, “Hey.” He knelt, placing a cautious hand on Peter’s wrist, “You okay?”  
  
“I’m okay.” Peter grasped his friend's arm, and Ned carefully helped him up onto his feet, “Thanks, dude.”  
  
Michelle bent down, grabbing one of the disregarded bottles, “You know what, Brad?” She seethed as she pressed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, “Being a dick isn’t a personality trait.”

Ned left to grab the bottle and can that had rolled to the other side of the room.

Peter disconnected from the situation as Michelle pulled him away from the dilemma. He wondered where Mr. Harrington had been during the altercation but he knew the poor teacher was trying to cover a lot of ground, being the only teacher on the trip.   
  
“Hey, loser,” Michelle spoke gently, as she brushed her fingers across his cheek.  
  
He used her voice as an anchor to escape his dissociation, “Um-hm.”  
  
She caught his wrist, “You okay?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“You gonna tell me the truth?” Michelle asked with an accusatory tone, “Sensory overload, again?”  
  
Peter winced as he clung to her arm, “A little.”  
  
Michelle swung her backpack off, and pulled out a packet of Peter’s ‘supersoldier’ antibiotics from the front pouch, “I packed these.”   
  
“Oh, my God.” Peter leaned over to grab them, “I love you.” His heart dropped. Today was seriously one _big event_ after the other. The couple hadn’t said _those_ words yet. Peter had been paranoid about when it would be the right time to say it, and he worried about the response, “Um...ugh…”   
  
Michelle leaned over, pushing his mouth shut, “You’ll catch flies.” She mocked as she grinned, “I love you too, idiot.”  
  
“Great.”   
  
Michelle handed him the water, and he downed two capsules, she then took the packet bag, as she mumbled about not trusting him to keep them safe, “Come on…” She said, taking his hand, “We’re moving onto the Iron Man exhibit.”   
  
“Oh, cool.” Peter smiled, “Ned and I helped build some of it.”  
  
“And I helped write some of it."  
  
Ned rejoined them as they made their way through to the Iron Man exhibit. Peter kept picking up the laughter from his class, all directed at him. It was quiet, _subtle,_ so Michelle and Ned were blissfully unaware of what was happening.  
  
“Hey, you know Peter’s making it up, right?”   
  
“It’s obvious.”  
  
“Can’t believe he’s still going along with it.”

Peter waited until Michelle and Ned were distracted by something Friday was telling them. He snuck off toward the toilet, wanting a few seconds to gather his thoughts.  
  
“Hey, Parker!” Brad called as he chased after him, obviously looking for a fight.  
  
“I’m not in the mood, Brad.”   
  
Brad reached forward, yanking on Peter’s arm, “I don’t care.”  
  
Peter snatched his wrist back, “What?”  
  
“You know…” Brad sneered, “I didn’t blip.”  
  
“Oh, you didn’t?” Peter spoke sarcastically, “It’s not like you say that every day.”  
  
“Look, I saw things you didn’t.” Brad spat, “We know things you don’t.”  
  
“And some of us died.” Peter snapped, “Think about that.”  
  
“The world moved on.” Brad said through gritted teeth, “And so did Tony Stark. You see, you might have an internship here, but he doesn’t actually care about you. He moved on with his life, had a kid of his own, and forgot about his sleazy clingy intern.” Peter backed away, wanting nothing more than to escape, “He only keeps your around now because his wife probably guilt-tripped him into it. You don’t fit in.”  
  
“Oi, Brad!” Jack hollered.  
  
Brad tapped Peter’s arm playfully as he ran back, “Later, Parker.”  
  
Tears filled Peter’s eyes but he wasn’t sure why. Brad didn’t know him, or his relationship with Tony. They weren’t true but the did tug at a pain that Peter buried deep. The one where he blamed himself for what happened to Tony during the aftermath of his snap.  
  
It brushed his tears away with the back of his sleeve, and hurried back out, fumbling for Michelle’s hand as soon as he was back by her side, “Where’d you go?”  
  
“Toilet.”  
  
Her forehead creased in concern, “What…”  
  
“I’m fine.” He interrupted.  
  
Ned walked over, worry etched across his face, “You look at little pale…”  
  
Peter sniffled, “I’m good.”   
  
“Morgan, wait!” Tony’s familiar voice echoed from a nearby corridor. Peter suddenly felt ten tonnes lighter knowing Tony and Morgan were closeby. He’d forgotten that Morgan had the day of school.  
  
The class stopped dead in their tracks, all muttering among themselves as they concluded that Tony Stark was closeby. Brad’s face drained of colour, and he shuffled toward the back, he hadn’t seen this coming.   
  
Morgan scurried around the corner, a mischievous grin on her face. The room chorused a series of ‘_ows_’ and _‘aws’ _but she paid them no attention, she was busy searching the room for her brother. Her face lit up when she noticed him, “Petey!” She exclaimed as she skipping over, chanting his infectious nickname, over and over again.  
  
“Oh.” Peter scooped her up into his arms, “Hey, munchkin.” She laid her head against his shoulder as she calmed down from her joyous journey. Everyone stared at Peter as if he’d slapped a puppy or something. They were gobsmacked.  
  
“Sorry, Midtown.” Tony clapped his hands together on entry. The room flinched as they turned to look at him, “My daughter, as you can see, is pretty impatient. She couldn’t wait a second longer to see her brother.”  
  
None of them screamed or muttered like before, it was too much input at once, and it looked as if Tony calling Peter Morgan’s brother was the final straw in the madness.  
  
Tony raised an eyebrow, “Well, to apologize for the interruption, as anyone got any questions” They buzzed with noise again, at the prospect of quizzing Iron Man, “ I can answer a few. Within reason, because technically, I’m unemployed.” Jack held up his arm, Tony nodded, “Yes.”   
  
“Um, did you…” He blurted, “Did you like actually invent time travel, to save the blipped?”  
  
Tony was taken aback, by the gravity of the_ first_ question, “Um, yes I did.”   
  
“Did you destroy it?”  
  
Tony leaned his chin against the back of his hand, “Yes.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“In the wrong hands…” Tony shrugged, “It was dangerous.”  
  
“Then why do it at all?” Brad raised, students turned to glare at him.  
  
Tony was thrown, he looked to the trio as if he was asking for help, “Umm....”  
  
Morgan answered his prayer as she leaned back in Peter’s arms, and shouted, “Daddy made time travel to save Petey!”  
  
Peter’s breath hitched, “Ehh…”  
  
“Yes, I did, Morguna.” Tony confirmed, without a moment’s hesitation, “Missed having him around, you know? I mean have you all seen the Bambi eyes on this kid, it’s unfair.”  
  
The class laughed unsurely.  
  
“Thanks, Tony,” Peter called over, sarcastic prominent in his tone.  
  
“It’s true, kid.” Tony quipped. Flash held up his arm, “Yes?”  
  
“Are you like..” Flash stuttered, “Are you Parker’s dad or what?”  
  
Tony looked over to Peter, who nodded, giving his approval. They were going to find out sooner or later, there was no point of holding it back at this point.   
  
“Yes,” Tony said, with a wide smile. The room shifted in shock, “I can’t take credit for the first fourteen years though, I had nothing to do with that.” Peter snorted, “Um, I adopted him, well ‘co-adopted’ with his aunt. Um, that will be made public knowledge…”  
  
“This Saturday,” Michelle called over to him.   
  
“Ah, yes, thanks MJ.” Tony praised, “So, we’re trusting all of you to keep that a secret. Don’t tell anyone.” He turned, and pointed, “Mr. Harrington, is it?”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
“No need for formalities.” Tony laughed, he held out his hand and gestured to the trio, “I’m gonna take these three of your hands.” Mr. Harrington went to argue, “Don’t worry...all permission slips have been sent to you. I think we’ve already established that Peter’s my kid.”  
  
“Um, okay.”  
  
“Good.” Tony waved as he walked off, “See you around, Midtown.” He pointed down a corridor, “Come on, you lot.”   
  
Peter guided Morgan down to her feet, and they followed after him.  
  
Morgan jumped once they were free of the students, “Neddie! Mimi!” She called, taking Ned and Michelle’s hands, using them as a jungle gym, to swing back and forth, “Do you wanna see the Spider-Man stuff?”   
  
“Of course!” Ned shouted excitedly. Michelle shot Peter a knowing smile before she was dragged away by a hyperactive Morgan.   
  
Tony wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders, and the kid deflated in his grasp. It had been a long morning. He knew that Tony had seen, or Friday had told him, what had happened with Brad. It was a setup, bringing Morgan, and stepping into the limelight, for one of the first times since Thanos. Tony did it to save Peter, so for now, no further explanation was needed.  
  
“Thank you,” Peter muttered as he leant his head against Tony’s shoulder.  
  
Tony pressed a kiss in Peter's curls, “Any day, kid."


	26. Abandoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Pepper welcome Peter and May to the Lakehouse, for their first visit. Tony quickly discovers that Peter is struggling to fit back in.

Personally, the worst part of Tony’s recovery following the snap was how long he was stuck in the hospital. _Three months. _The first two weeks of that, he’d been in a coma. All that time, stuck somewhere he didn’t want to be, meant that he missed everything.   
  
Well_,_ he missed all the _firsts._   
  
He didn’t witness Peter and Morgan meet, which according to Rhodey, played out like a scene straight out of a Disney movie. He wasn’t there when Happy and May dropped Peter off for his first day back at school. He didn’t get to wave Morgan off for her first day at kindergarten.   
  
He missed out, and he hated it. However, he couldn’t complain because he got Peter back, and he wouldn’t trade that win, in a heartbeat.   
  
During his time in the hospital, especially when he had to undergo his surgeries, Peter and May took charge of Morgan, she spent days, sometimes a whole week, with them at their apartment. She often refused to be separated from her brother, in a short space of time, the pair became inseparable. That was Tony’s dream, and it came true, even if he hadn't been there to see it.  
  
Returning home was surreal. For the first couple of days, it was just Tony and Pepper. Then, Morgan came back, from her long stay with the Parkers. Peter didn’t visit, or stopover. He couldn’t. Not until Tony was finished preparing his bedroom. Tony got to work straight away, because holding Peter back, with excuses and lies, was one of the hardest things he had to do. Especially after spending five years without him.  
  
Peter already had a room. So, that was sorted. Tony secretly purchased the Lakehouse a week before Thanos happened. He’d planned it all, but it was ruined. Even in the wake of losing Peter, that room was his. For the years he was gone, it remained _empty_ apart from a few boxes of his stuff, and rolls of Star Wars wallpaper that were never used.  
  
Tony had missed plenty of firsts during his recovery but not this time, he got to welcome Peter and May, with open arms, into their _second_ home.  
  
Tony skipped down the stairs, a spring in his step. Pepper was hovering by the front door, she turned, wearing a smile from ear-to-ear, “They’re here.” She sang excitably, as Tony walked over.   
  
“Finally.” Tony sighed as he watched May clamber out of the driver’s seat.  
  
Pepper looked around, “Where’s Morgan?”  
  
A mischievous grin crawled onto his face, “Um, she’s waiting upstairs to surprise him.”  
  
She narrowed her eyes, “Oh, she’s waiting?”   
  
“Yeah, I give her a minute.” Tony joked. Morgan wasn’t known for being patient, and she never stayed in one place too long.   
  
Pepper scoffed, “I give her forty seconds.”  
  
Tony skipped forward opening the front door as May jumped up the porch steps, “Hey!” He welcomed as he held out an arm.  
  
“Hello, hello.” May chanted, “Sorry we’re late.” She pulled Tony into a side hug, and pressed a quick kiss against his cheek, “This place is gorgeous.”  
  
“Thank you, Mrs. Parker,” Tony said as she moved through to hug Pepper.  
  
Tony’s eyes caught Peter. The kid was slowly treading up the steps, his posture was deflated and his expression was unreadable. Tony knew he had been struggling with insomnia, which was understandable, considering the circumstances. “Kid!” Tony exclaimed, he was determined to turn Peter’s mood around by the end of the night. He didn’t want this first to be dampened by what Thanos had done to them, not again.  
  
Peter looked up at him, “Hey, Mr. Stark.” Tony clumsily threw himself around his kid, in a tight hug, “Oh.”   
  
Tony would never tire of hugging him, or, simply seeing him. Sometimes he needed reminding, that they did it. Peter was real, and so was everyone else who blipped. They were home.  
  
“How was the journey?” Tony asked, as he pulled back, and tapped Peter’s shoulder.  
  
Peter shrugged, “It was okay.”   
  
“You not a fan of the woodland, kiddo?” Tony teased, as he jokingly prodded his arm, “Do you miss all the skyscrapers where you can swing around to your heart’s content?”  
  
Peter snorted a laugh, “I can swing from trees.”  
  
“Oh, yeah?” Tony quizzed, he pushed on Peter’s back, guiding him into the house, “Well, that makes it easier for you to go on patrol whenever you stopover.”  
  
“I guess.”  
  
Pepper hurried over, tackling Peter in a hug, “Hey, sweetheart.”  
  
Peter chuckled, as he folded his arms around her, “Hey.”  
  
“Petey!” Morgan charged down the stairs, chanting her brother’s name. Like predicted, her patience wore thin pretty quickly. Pepper stepped away as she giggled at her daughter’s antics, she joined May on the couch.   
  
Peter’s face lit up, as Morgan locked her arms around his leg, “Hey, Morgan.”  
  
Morgan took his arm and pulled it, “You gotta come and see the surprise!”  
  
Peter’s face scrunched up in confusion, “The surprise?” He looked up at Tony, “What…”  
  
Tony held his arms out, and shrugged, nonchalantly, “I don’t know. “  
  
“Come on, come on, come on!” Morgan shouted joyfully as she yanked on his arm.  
  
“Okay, okay…” Peter laughed as he took her hand.  
  
“This way!” She instructed, pointing to the stairs.  
  
Tony followed close behind as Morgan dragged Peter across the landing, she stopped abruptly in front of his closed door. She drummed her hand against his hip, “You have to open the door!”   
  
“Alright.” Peter wrapped a hand around the doorknob and pushed it open. His breathing hitched, as soon as he saw what awaited him.   
  
The room was the embodiment of him. That included _Star Wars_ wallpaper, it was black, with stars spread around, the Millenium Falcon was tucked up in the top right corner, by the closet. His bedding was Star Trek, which was a strong contrast, but the kid had conflicting interests. There was a special closet to store his everyday clothes and a special automated section for his Spider-Man suits.   
  
“What’s this?” Peter asked as he walked in to get a better look.  
  
“It’s your room!” Morgan shouted as she charged in, “You love Star Wars, so everything’s Star Wars! I love it too. Luke’s my favourite ‘cause Daddy said you’re a lot like him.”  
  
Tony folded his arms across his chest as he moved in, standing back to watch Peter twirl around.   
  
“Look over here!” Morgan charged over to the bay window. In that section, the wallpaper was different. It had been Pepper’s idea. It was a printout of all art that Morgan had drawn for Peter, over the years, to remind the kid he’d never been forgotten, “These are drawings I did for you.” She darted to the closet, “And we got you some clothes too!”  
  
Tony’s heart leapt up into his throat when his focussed moved from Morgan to Peter.   
  
Peter’s lower lip trembled, and tears filled his eyes.   
  
Tony knew they'd_ misjudged_ this.   
  
It was different for them.   
  
They were caught up in the celebration of having him back. Tony saved his kid, and that was fantastic. Morgan got to meet and love the brother that she had idolised since she could toddle.   
  
For Peter, it had been a few months, and everything had changed. Some of his friends were in their twenties and had moved on with their lives. Tony and Pepper didn’t live in the city anymore, and they had a daughter now. They had expected too much from him too quickly. Much like society did with all those who blipped.  
  
“Hey, Morguna.” Tony said gently as he placed a hand on her back, “Can you wait downstairs? We’ll be down to play some games later.”  
  
“Um…” Morgan’s eyes glistened with concern as she studied her brother, “Okay.” She left, hearing the seriousness in her father’s calm tone.  
  
“Hey, kid.” Tony hesitantly reached out his hand, resting it against Peter’s shoulder. Peter jolted back as a sob caught in his throat, “You all right?”  
  
Peter stared at the floor, as he hugged his arms around his chest, “No.”   
  
“Pete?” Tony asked, “What’s wrong?”  
  
“I don’t…” Peter scraped his teeth across his lower lip, but he stopped.  
  
“Kid, I’m lost.” Tony said cautiously, “What’s going on?  
  
Peter looked up, with red-rimmed eyes, “Why did you do this?”  
  
“What…” Tony sighed, “What..this room?”   
  
“Everything.” Peter hissed as he mindlessly bounced his foot against the floor, “The room, the time heist…”  
  
Tony swallowed the bile threatening to rise in his throat, he shook his head, “Peter…”  
  
“I was dead...” Peter sobbed, as he wrapped a strong arm around his front, Tony flinched at the word, “I mean gone. I--I don’t remember that.” He dipped his chin to his chest, “You guys were happy, you moved on and we..I...fucked it up.”  
  
Tony’s world collapsed around him as he shook his head. Peter didn’t know what life had been without him, and Tony wasn’t sure he was in a place to tell him about the darkest moments.   
  
Peter looked down at Tony’s prosthetic arm, “Everything that happened with you and…”  
  
“Stop it.” Tony interrupted, as he moved over to him, “Don’t talk like that. You hear me?”  
  
“But…”  
  
“No, kid. I won’t hear it.” Tony nudged Peter’s chin up, so he looked in his eyes, “I wouldn’t take it back ever.” He brushed his hand through Peter’s curls, “Do you think losing an arm was worse than losing you?”  
  
“I…” Peter blurted, “I thought you didn’t wanna see me.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“You got back from the hospital two weeks ago, and…”  
  
_Oh, shit. _Tony faltered, stumbling back a few paces as he realised his mistake. Peter thought they didn’t want him around because they’d kept him away from the Lakehouse. Their signals were crossed because they both meant well; Tony wanted to surprise Peter when all Peter wanted to do was be around him.  
  
“Mr. Stark?” Peter’s voice cracked, Tony blinked away tears, “I’m sorry.”  
  
“No..no…” Tony caught Peter’s wrist, “This on me, kid. The last two weeks we’ve been doing this.” He explained, gesturing to the room, “We wanted it to be a surprise. It wasn’t meant…”  
  
“Oh.”   
  
“I’m sorry.” Tony sniffled, “No more surprises, from here on out.”  
  
“Okay.” Peter hiccuped. Tony stared at him, silently vowing to never make a mistake like this. To make an effort to read between the lines and not accidentally hurt his kid, when he was trying to be kind, “Um, what is it?”  
  
Tony smiled as he tucked Peter’s loose hanging curls behind his ear, “I’ve missed you.”  
  
Peter fell into Tony’s open arms, breaking against his shoulder. Tony rubbed circles against his back as he gently shushed him. Tony thanked the heavens, or _whatever,_ as he held his kid. He knew, whatever happened in their lives, he would never let Peter slip through his fingers again.


	27. Ransom

Tony could deal with most things. Shrapnel in his chest, panic attacks, almost dying to save the world on multiple occasions? Those moments felt like a piece of cake, compared to the sheer terror of learning that Peter and Morgan had been kidnapped.   
  
It was the second Friday of the month, so that meant Peter picked Morgan up from kindergarten and then she spent the weekend with him and May. It was a routine. Tony knew exactly what path they walked to get to the apartment block.

They were grabbed in the park, in daylight, but it had been raining, and no one else was around to see it happen.

The kidnappers wanted money. A ten million dollar ransom for Tony’s kids. It was a small fee to pay when their lives were on the line. This group meant business. Their leader threatened to kill them if Tony came with backup or weaponry of any kind. He could tell that the man wasn't bluffing.  
  
Tony stepped out onto the abandoned side street, case in hand. Even he couldn’t deny that this whole thing was undoubtedly cliche. The kidnappers wanted cash-in-hand, and they had Tony’s children, it felt like it was ripped straight out of a crappy crime drama. Although, Tony hadn’t come alone. Pepper and Rhodey were two blocks back, in their suits, ready for anything.

There was a car with tinted windows, stretched across the road. A heavyset man, in his mid-forties, was leant up against the bumper, wearing an obnoxious smirk. He seemed well-off, rich even. He was clean-shaven, and was sporting a new tailored suit, “Anthony?”   
  
Tony skidded to a halt when he realised this was the leader, the one he spoke to on the phone, “Jake.”  
  
Jake’s eyebrow raised, “Jake?”  
  
“Well, you won’t tell me your name.” Tony shrugged, “So, I gave you one.”   
  
“I like it..” Jake praised as he tapped the bonnet and tread over, “You got what I want?”  
  
“Yeah.” Tony swung the case forward, for dramatic effect, “Where are my kids?”  
  
Jake held up his hands in surrender, “Let’s not jump the gun here, Anthony.”  
  
“Where are my kids?” Tony demanded, with gritted teeth, he hid his clenched fist behind his back, as it trembled.  
  
“Okay, okay…” Jake sighed, “I get it.” He pointed at the case, “I need to know it’s real.”  
  
“Sure.” Tony set the case on the road, opened it, and pulled out a wedge, “Here.” He tossed it over, Jake caught it with ease, “That’s all you get until I see them.”  
  
Jake flicked through the pile, “Okay.” He held up his hand, the passenger door, and a back door swung open.  
  
A man clambered out of the passenger seat, he dragged Morgan out, with a strong arm locked around her front. She wasn’t giving up on her fight. She was screaming, and thrashing around, hitting the guy’s arm as she fought to break free. She kicked back, trying to knock him off his rhythm.   
  
“Morgan…” Tony muttered, panic-stricken.   
  
Morgan’s deflated, her fight came to an end, as she looked up, with teary-eyes, “Daddy?”  
  
Tony’s face softened as he swallowed the lump in his throat, “Hey, baby.”   
  
“Oh, God.” Jake groaned, he pressed a hand against his stomach and faked a gag, “Fatherhood has made you soft.”  
  
Tony paid no attention to his antics, as a woman exited the back of the car, pulling Peter over, by his ear. The kid didn’t fight back. He couldn’t. He was a mess. His face was a gallery of bruises and lacerations. His right eye twitched, unable to close properly.   
  
“Peter…” Tony’s breath hitched, in horror, because they’d promised they wouldn't lay a finger on either of them.  
  
“Sorry about that…” Jake trailed off, “You see, the kid’s got an awful temper.”  
  
Tony knew what he wanted to say, or scream, but he couldn’t risk their lives with his anger. Peter got hurt for fighting back, for protecting his sister, who was unscathed. If that didn’t tell you everything you needed to know about Peter, Tony wasn’t sure what would.  
  
“Kid?”   
  
Peter managed a half-smile, “I’m okay.”  
  
Tony moved forward, presenting the case, “Let’s do this, then?”  
  
“No, no..” Jake waved his hand out, as a knowing smirk grew across his face, “Wait a minute. I have a question.”  
  
“What?” Tony spat, desperate to have his kids back in his arms.  
  
Jake clicked his fingers once more, ordering his team around. Within a second, both Peter and Morgan had a gun pressed up against their temple. The ground beneath Tony softened, as his stomach dropped, “No!”  
  
Peter’s eyes widened, not in concern for himself, but for Morgan, “Get away from her!”  
  
Tony froze, “Look, I brought the money.” He hissed, “If you want, you can have me. Just let them go.”  
  
“You can have them, Anthony.” Jake sneered, “But I have conditions. How do I say this gently?” He tapped his fingers rhythmically against his chin, “You see, one of them will be a little less spritely than useful.” Tony muttered a prayer in his head, hoping that Pepper and Rhodey were nearby, “One of them will leave in a body bag. Choose.”  
  
“What?” Tony blurted.  
  
“Choose.” Jake laughed, “Which one do you want to save?”  
  
Tony shook his head, alarmed, “This is not…”  
  
Jake shrugged, “Deals change. You have one minute, or I’ll kill them both.”   
  
“Tony.” Peter called hoarsely, Tony looked at him as he smiled, with misty-eyes, “It’s okay.” He proclaimed, with a simple nod.  
  
Tony shook his head, as tears filled his eyes, “Pete…” He thought of the years he fought to get Peter back, he couldn’t lose him again. There would be no coming back from this. He couldn’t lose Morgan either. He wouldn’t survive without them.  
  
“It’s alright…” Peter cried, “I’m---”  
  
Jake interrupted with a scoff, “Kid’s got some guts, don’t he?”   
  
“Tony, it’s okay.” Peter pleaded, “Take her home.”  
  
“Kid…”  
  
“Let me go,” Peter said softly, he’d never sounded surer in his life. Tony wondered if Natasha’s last moments on Vormir were like this. She sacrificed herself to save the universe, and keep Clint _alive_. Peter was doing the same here now, making the sacrifice play for Morgan when he was terrified of dying.  
  
Tony went to speak, but his prayers were answered. Jake and his goons, were shot down instantaneously. (Sedated, not killed.)  
  
Peter’s knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground. Morgan quickly raced to her brother’s side. She was too young to understand the gravity of the choice that Tony had been faced with, and she wouldn’t understand what could have happened until she was much older. However, she knew that Peter needed her. Even if she didn’t understand what he'd tried to sacrifice for her.  
  
“Petey!” She clumsily threw her arms around him.  
  
“Hey, hey.” Tony charged over, kneeling beside them, “Shit.” He brushed Morgan’s hair out of her eyes, “Are you okay?” She nodded. “Are you okay?” He asked, again, this time combing his fingers through Peter’s curls.  
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“I’m so sorry.” Tony dragged the pair into his arms, muttering nonsensical reassurance, as he held them. He feared what choice he would have made, if any at all. He knew, if he was ever faced with that scenario again, he’d rather die than see how it would play out.  
  
The familiar thud of the Rescue armour came from behind, as Pepper landed, and deactivate the nanotech, Morgan squeezed out the hug, and ran over to meet her, “Mummy!”   
  
“Oh.” Pepper sighed as she hoisted her daughter up into her arms, “Thank God.” She cradled her close, “Tony, is he alright?”  
  
“A little battered and bruised....” Tony told her, as he brushed his hand through Peter’s sweat-ridden hair, “Hey, Pete?” Pepper bounced Morgan, as she broke down in a fit of sobs, “Kid?” Peter’s forehead was pressed against Tony’s collarbone, “Can you hear me?” He’d predicted that Peter would pass out but, he knew it was worrying when someone with a possible concussion lost consciousness, “Peter?”  
  
Rhodey landed, he charged over to Pepper, to check on Morgan.  
  
“Peter?” Tony muttered, “Look, even the president was worried about you guys.”  
  
“Vice,” Peter mumbled as he made himself as small as possible in Tony’s arms.  
  
Tony let out a wet laugh, “Oh, don’t be so pedantic.” He teased, he reached down and scooped Peter up into his arms as Rhodey rushed to meet them, “Come on, let’s go home.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote all of these a long time ago, but...I had to add Rhodey being Vice President since they cut it out in Endgame. Nah, that's not okay. From now on, he's Vice President in all my fanfictions! 
> 
> (Up until last week, this one ended with Peter dying, but I couldn't bring myself to do it again.)


	28. Beaten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony wanted to throw a fit. He wanted to shout until he understood what had happened, but he didn’t. Peter was crying, and he was trying to hide it, but Tony could see his shoulders trembling. The last thing Peter needed, was someone screaming at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know all of these are on-shots, but this chapter does tie-in a little with Chapter 16 :)

Tony left Morgan, playing with her Lego, while he popped down to grab a book from his workshop. He’d only been gone a few minutes, and in that time, Peter had arrived.   
  
He was sat opposite Morgan on the carpet, fidgeting with a piece of Lego. He was wearing one of Tony’s old ‘MIT’ hoodies, he had the hood up, and the strings pulled tight, so his face was barely visible. Tony could see his eyes and the top half of his nose.

Tony was confused because Peter usually patrolled on a Wednesday, and didn’t make it back to the Lake House until Morgan’s bedtime.

The reasoning for his early arrival clicked, as Tony headed over. Whenever Peter’s senses were driving him crazy, he would skip patrol, and spent the rest of the day hiding behind a hoodie. _So_, Tony guessed today was one of those days.  
  
“Hey, kiddo.” Tony welcomed, with a quietened voice, “I didn’t hear you come in. How was school?”  
  
“Okay.” Peter shrugged, “Kinda boring.”  
  
Tony snorted as he skipped into the kitchen, “You ten steps ahead of everyone else again?”  
  
“Yeah…” Peter said, half-heartedly, “I guess.”  
  
“Daddy!” Morgan jumped to her feet, as her Lego tower was too tall for her to reach from the floor, “We’re building the tallest Lego Tower ever!”  
  
Tony studied it as he prepared a fresh pot of coffee, “Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah, look!”  
  
“Wow.” Tony raised his eyebrows, “I’d say that’s almost as tall as me.”   
  
Peter snorted a laugh, “So super short then?”  
  
Tony narrowed his eyes, “Watch it, kid.”   
  
Morgan’s curiosity shifted, onto her brother. She tilted her head to her shoulder, as she scanned him, “Hey, Petey?”  
  
“Yeah, munchkin,” Peter said, as he mindlessly clicked two Lego pieces together.  
  
“What’s wrong with your cheek?” She asked as concern etched over her face. Peter flinched, and Tony knew that something was _wrong_, something he couldn’t see from where he was standing.  
  
“Nothing,” Peter muttered back, his tone less spritely than before.  
  
Morgan’s forehead creased, she didn’t believe him, “Did you bump it?”   
  
“No,” Peter said, with gritted teeth.   
  
Morgan wasn’t giving up that easily, “It looks like it hurts.”  
  
“There’s nothing there!”  
  
Tony’s heart leapt into his throat. Peter snapped. He shouted, at Morgan. He’d never done that before. Not even when she spilt coffee on one of his limited edition comic books. He would be caught dead before raising his voice at his sister, Tony knew that.   
  
Morgan’s face dropped, and she shuffled back. Peter remained dangerously still.  
  
“Hey, hey…” Tony said firmly, as he marched over, “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, kid. But Morgan has done nothing wrong, okay?” _Wow_, he’d never sounded more like a dad.  
  
“I know…” Peter’s throat cracked, “I’m sorry, Morgs. I didn't ...”  
  
Morgan’s face softened when she noticed her brother was crying, “It’s alright, Petey.”   
  
Tony leaned against the back of the couch, “Okay, kid, Let’s bite the bullet, hey?” He held out his hand, and gestured to his kid, “Pull the hood down, please.” He pleaded; Peter shook his head, “Pete. I won’t ask twice.”  
  
Peter drummed his fingers against his knee anxiously, “No.”   
  
“Peter.”   
  
Peter hit his closed fist against his leg once, in frustration. He reached back and pulled down his hood. Tony couldn’t hold back a gasp, as his breath hitched. Morgan stared at her brother, with wide-eyes. Peter’s face was covered in bruises, small lacerations, and cuts. The injuries had already started healing, but they were prominent. Tony dreaded to imagine what he looked like when it happened.  
  
Tony wanted to throw a fit. He wanted to shout until he understood what had happened, but he didn’t. Peter was crying, and he was trying to hide it, but Tony could see his shoulders trembling. The last thing Peter needed, was someone screaming at him.   
  
Tony let out a hesitant breath as he tapped the back of the couch, “Um, get up here, Pete. I’m gonna grab the first aid kit.” Peter hoisted himself up into a standing position, he stood idle for a few seconds, but then he swayed on the spot. Tony moved fast, pressing one hand against his back and the other against his shoulder, steadying him, “Hey, hey. I got you.”  
  
“I got it,” Peter mumbled as Tony guided him down onto the couch.  
  
Tony squeezed his shoulder, “Sure thing.” He rushed over to the medicine cabinet.   
  
Morgan cautiously moved over towards Peter, “Did…” She reached out, placing a hand on his wrist, “Did you get hurt on pat...pa..”  
  
“Patrol?” Peter finished, she nodded, “No.”   
  
Tony hurried back over, sitting beside Peter, as he pulled out antiseptic wipes, “So, what happened then, kid?” He asked as he started to carefully clean the dirt out of his wounds. Peter winced, but ignored the question, “You know, I’ll get to the bottom of this, so you might as well tell me.”  
  
“You’ll overreact.”  
  
Tony scoffed, as he shook his head, “Obviously, you’re my kid.” Peter said nothing, “This isn’t overreacting, Pete…” Tony spoke softer this time, but serious too, he had to get to the bottom of this, “Have you seen what they did to you?”  
  
“It was some kid.” Peter blurted, “He, um, pushed me down the stairs at the train station.”  
  
“And the rest?”  
  
Peter sighed exasperatedly, “He stepped on my face.”  
  
Tony didn’t care for the way Peter treated this circumstance as if it were normal, and something to be expected. It wasn’t. It was vile, and needed to stop before it escalated further, “You gonna tell me a name this time?”  
  
“It’s not worth it.”  
  
Tony stopped what he was doing, and gently nudged Peter’s chin, so he was looking him in the eye, “What about next time?”  
  
“I’ll deal with it.”  
  
“No...I mean next time…” Tony breathed with difficulty, “Think about it.” Tears filled his eyes at the idea, “What if next time...you’re not so lucky? What do we do then?”  
  
Peter shook his head, “That’s not fair.”  
  
“Isn’t it?” Tony combed his fingers back through Peter’s curls, “ I get why you don’t use your powers against them but this has gone too far….” He eased, “Either they’re gonna…” _Hurt you again, or kill you. _The words were true but Tony couldn’t bring himself to say them, “I want his name, and we can sort this out. Together.”  
  
Peter didn’t cave. He shook his head, prominent in his silence.  
  
“Brad.” Morgan hiccuped. Peter jolted, Tony grabbed his arm, so he didn’t nosedive off the couch.  
  
Morgan looked guilty, and Tony could see what had happened.   
  
Peter had accidentally let Brad's name slip once and feared the reaction of Tony, so asked Morgan to keep it a secret. It probably wasn’t even a big moment.   
  
Tony realised as she muttered the name, that she was growing up. _Well_, she was figuring out how her brother worked, and that sometimes, you have to break a promise, to protect the ones you love.  
  
“Brad?” Tony asked as he looked back at Peter, the kid nodded, “Okay, are you going to let us sort this out, bud?”  
  
Peter stared at his sister, with teary-eyes, he tapped her hand that was rested against his arm, “Um-hm.”  
  
Tony squeezed Peter’s shoulder, “Thank you.” 


	29. Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New York City and the rest of the world would see the footage. They’d see Spider-Man, a hero they trusted, commence a drone attack on London. They’d witness Beck’s last moments, and believe him to be the hero. It wasn’t real, but the lie was edited seamlessly. It didn’t look fake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of those rare ones where I've stuck to canon!

Beck knew he would win. Even dead, he got the last laugh. He planned this, and Peter hadn’t seen it coming.  
  
Peter was stupidly naive. He let himself believe that he could start leading a somewhat normal life, despite everything that he’d been through.   
  
New York City and the rest of the world would see the footage. They’d see Spider-Man, a hero they trusted, commence a drone attack on London. They’d witness Beck’s last moments, and believe him to be the hero. It wasn’t real, but the lie was edited seamlessly. It didn’t look fake_. Seeing is believing._  
  
Peter narrowed his eyes at the screen, as J. Jonah Jameson kept droning on about Mysterio. Peter hoped this would be his saving grace, the video was released by an untrusted source, perhaps that worked in his favour. However, the world was messed up, and people pretty much believed everything they saw and heard.  
  
Peter kept a firm hand wrapped around the lamppost that he was perched on, his knees had already turned to jelly, and he feared the fall. He unconsciously leant back into his defensive position, as his senses spiked.  
  
_“But that's not all folks…” _Jameson proclaimed, _“Here’s the real blockbuster. Brace yourselves, you might wanna sit down.”_  
  
Beck flashed back onto the screen, with red-rimmed eyes, and a panicked expression. Peter had to hand it to the illusion, it looked more than real, “_Spider-Man's real..._” Beck flinched, looking to the side, adding to the trick that he was hiding from Spider-Man; he turned back to the camera, “_Spider-Man's real name is -_-”  
  
Peter’s heart dropped. This couldn’t happen. If this happened, it was_ over._ Everyone he loved would be in _danger_.  
  
The footage glitched out, and he hoped that was it.   
  
His prayers weren’t answered.  
  
Beck came back on, red-faced, with tears in his eyes, sadder than before, as if he were recovering from the betrayal of a friend, “_Spider-Man's name is Peter Parker_!”  
  
Peter’s stomach lunged, when the video cut to a picture of him. It was a recent yearbook photo of him smiling. May had a copy at home, so did Pepper. It used to be harmless, and now, it was incriminating.   
  
Peter brought his hands to the side of his head as he exclaimed, “What the fuck?”  
  
The sound around him drowned out into a high-pitched squeal. He didn’t panic, scream, or cry. It was too much input. He was feeling so much at once, that he didn’t feel anything at all.  
  
His balance faltered, and the next thing he knew, he toppled off the lamppost, landing with a thump on the concrete below. It should have hurt, but it didn’t; his suit reported three minor fractures in his right leg and a bruised vertebrae, but he didn’t care.   
  
He turned to his side, coughing violently, as air forced its way back into his startled lungs.   
  
He could hear voices, through the continuous ringing in his ears. People were screaming _at_ him, making vile remarks. The words and statements that were said, he would never have the heart to repeat. However, he still didn’t care.  
  
“Peter!” Michelle’s panic-stricken voice woke Peter from his dissociation. She was at the epicentre of the forming mob, that meant she was in danger. That, he cared about. He sat up, shuffling away from the crowd, who were attempting to grab him. Michelle broke through, pushing people out of the way, as she chanted his name. She collapsed beside him, taking his arm, “We have to get out of here.”   
  
Peter nodded, as he stood, she quickly secured herself around him.   
  
“Get away from her!” Somebody screamed, dozens of people echoed the same message.  
  
Peter ignored them, he made sure Michelle was safe in his grasp and swung away. He flew over the crowd, and charged across rooftops, looking for a space to lay low, for a short while. Michelle buried her face against his shoulder and held onto him for dear life.  
  
He landed in an abandoned alleyway. Somewhere they could hide until Happy found them. He’d already sent an alert to Peter’s suit, telling him that he was on his way.   
  
He let go of Michelle, and stumbled to a nearby wall, with an outstretched hand. He clumsily slid down and hugged his knees to his chest.  
  
Michelle knelt in front of him, “Hey.” She reached forward and pulled his mask off.   
  
Peter stared at her, as she brushed his loose curls out of his eyes, “It’s not true.”   
  
“Don’t be an idiot.” She nudged his cheek as she sat back, “I know it’s not.”  
  
“It looked true.”  
  
“The Daily Bugle is shit.” She was rattled by what they’d seen, angry even. Peter couldn’t explain how he felt, and he was starting to think something was wrong with him, “Everyone knows that. It’s fake news.”  
  
_You'll see, Peter. People tend to believe...And nowadays...they'll believe anything._  
  
Peter shrugged, as he leaned his head against the wall, “That doesn’t matter.”  
  
“If anyone believes that, then they’re dumb....”   
  
“I guess.”  
  
The pair sat in silence for a short while; Michelle kept rhythmically drumming her fingers against Peter’s leg, anxiously.   
  
It wasn’t long until Happy’s car swung around the corner, skidding to a sudden halt. He jumped out, panic etched across his face, “Hey!” He bellowed, “Get in!”  
  
Michelle helped Peter to his feet, and the pair charged over, clambering into the back of the car.   
  
Michelle, being the responsible person she was, buckled Peter in, and then herself, in the middle seat, so she could hold his hand. If they weren't in a high-stress situation, she’d probably have some terrifying facts about seat-belt safety.   
  
Happy floored it, getting back onto the main road, as fast as he could, “Are you both okay?” Peter knew Happy meant well, but that question was dumb. “Sorry. Stupid question.”   
  
Michelle leaned forward, “Where are we going?”   
  
"...It's one of Tony’s old safe houses. Well, apartments. ” He blurted, “May’s already there.”  
  
Happy and Michelle kept talking among themselves but Peter drowned them out.  
  
All he could think about was the irony of the situation. _Edith _was an anagram. It was a playful and jokey term that Tony had found amusing, and knew he could use to ease the suffering of whoever used them. _Even dead, I’m the hero_. It had two meanings now. The second was never Tony’s intention. Tony was dead, and he was a hero. Always would be. Beck was dead, and to the world, he too was a hero. People would be him on the same podium as Tony, and that was truly disturbing.   
  
Peter had cut himself off from reality and he didn’t realise until they were walking.   
  
Michelle's hand was pressed against his hip, as she helped guide him up the stairs of a crappy dismal apartment complex. 

Happy was a few steps ahead. They stopped outside a high-tec front door, now this was more _Tony Stark_. He scanned his hand, and as soon as the door clicked open, he ushered them inside.   
  
The apartment was laid out like one of the communal lounges at the Avengers Headquarters.  
  
May leapt off the couch, tears in her eyes as she hurried over, “Peter!” She exclaimed, “Michelle.” She pulled the pair into a hug, “Thank God.” She leaned back, pressing a hand against Peter’s cheek, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”  
  
“Um-hm.” Peter pulled away from them, and fell back onto the couch, he mindlessly stared ahead.  
  
May caught Michelle’s wrist, “Thank you.”  
  
Michelle’s face fell, in confusion, “For what?”  
  
“We saw the footage from ...from Times Square….” May stuttered, “Thank you for getting him out of that.”  
  
“It’s okay.” Michelle said, “Um, what’s next? What are we gonna do?”  
  
“Pepper’s on it.” Happy answered, I’m not sure what that means exactly, but when she says she’s sorting something, she’ll sort it.”   
  
_Great_, Pepper had been dragged into this. Another two people Peter loved that were now in danger, her and Morgan. Pepper had enough to worry about. She’d lost her husband, not even a year ago, and she had a daughter to look out for.   
  
“Rhodey’s make it priority number one too.” Happy added.  
  
Peter brushed a hand over his face, emotions running high. Rhodey was Vice President, surely he had more dire situations to deal with. He was running for office in the new year, and Peter didn’t want to be the reason he lost his chance, “Why?”   
  
Happy’s breath hitched, stumped by Peter’s question, “Huh?”  
  
Peter held out his hands, “There’s no point.”   
  
May stepped closer, worry swimming in her eyes, “Peter?”  
  
“They know who I am.”   
  
“We’ll deal with this, kid.” Happy said, reassuringly. It was times like this when Peter missed the pessimistic straight-forward Happy, the one who took no shit. He was overly optimistic these days, and Peter didn’t want that. He wanted the _truth_, and no one was giving it to him.  
  
“No, there’s no dealing with it.” Peter argued, “There’s no hiding”.   
  
“We know, honey.” May sympathised, “Hey, Tony did--”  
  
“That was his choice.” Peter interrupted, knowing where she was going with her point. _Yeah_, Tony revealed his identity, but he wasn’t framed for murder on the same day, “This wasn’t mine.” Tony had also confessed to Peter once, that he regretted the choice he made, “It was a secret...for a reason. To keep…”  
  
Happy sighed, “We’ll be okay, Pete.”  
  
Peter leaned forward, throwing out his arm, “How do you know that?”  
  
“I just do.”  
  
Peter deflated, folding his arms over his chest, “Well, you’re not the first person who promised me that.. so...I can’t…”  
  
Silence fell over the room, they weren’t idiots and realised that he was referring to Tony. Happy stepped into another room when Pepper called.   
  
Michelle kept her eyes locked onto Peter, he could tell she had a thousand things she wanted to say.   
  
She moved her focus onto May, “Is Ned safe?”   
  
Dread shot up Peter’s back, as he slowly became aware of how he was feeling.   
  
“Yeah,” May nodded, “He’s with his parents.”   
  
“Good.”  
  
Michelle buried her hand into her pocket and pulled out her phone; Peter could tell it was on silent because it would have blown up with notifications, after the reveal. She scrolled through it as she paced around.   
  
Her mouth twitched in the corner, as a knowing sad smile spread over her face. She walked over to him, “Here.” She held out her phone, wanting him to take it.  
  
“What?”  
  
She held it closer to his face, “Just look.”   
  
“Okay.” He took it. It was on her Twitter. The trending page to be exact, every single hashtag and headline was about him. Something warm spread across his chest, when he saw what the top results were; #_standwithspiderman, #fakenews, #peterparker, #spidermanisinnocent._  
  
He ignored the third one, which was _#justiceformysterio _because it was the only negative trend. The rest were _for_ him. Perhaps people weren’t as terrible as he thought they could be. Beck was wrong about humanity too, it seemed together, humanity can tell truth from fiction.  
  
Michelle sat beside him, she took his hand, “I get it, loser.” She said softly, “I do...but you’re wrong. We can fix this.”   
  
Peter nodded, as he squeezed her hand. He kept scrolling through, reading comments. Stories from those who had been saved by Spider-Man; there were multiple video clips, audio recordings and photos. They were testimonies, proof that he was _innocent_.   
  
He stumbled across a bunch of Twitter threads from his classmates, some from his current year, and some of those who’d survived the blip, and were now in their twenties.   
  
Curiosity got the best of him, and he clicked onto Flash’s profile - ironically, his @ was ‘**_spideyno1fan_**.’  
  
There was one tweet that read ‘_sPiDeR-MaN'S NaMe iS PeTeR PaRkEr_’ and underneath was a picture of the infamous Spongebob meme. The next one was captioned, _‘when you knowingly teased your hero for two years_’ attached was a picture of a guy putting on a clown wig.   
  
Peter snorted a quiet laugh, he needed to text Flash when he had the chance, to make sure he wasn’t having a mental breakdown. They were on good terms recently, and he hoped this didn’t taint that.  
  
He realised it didn’t when he saw Flash’s most tweet, which was genuinely kind. He had written, ‘_parker is a dumbass but he’s no bad guy #standwithspiderman’ _and with it, was a photo of the class on the field trip, they were laughing at a joke Peter had made, he couldn’t remember exactly what he'd said, but it was something to do with the crowd of pigeons surrounding them.   
  
Peter moved on to Betty’s profile; her tweet had gained some traction, with almost 100k retweets. It was a picture of them hugging on the field trip, and the caption read, ‘_Peter once waited with me, until my parents arrived to pick me up from school. It was dark, and my phone had stopped working. He wanted to make sure I was safe before he left #standwithspiderman' _

Peter’s heart fluttered, when a new notification came through. Liz tweeted, Peter’s first crush and the daughter of his first ‘_bad guy_.’ She survived the blip and had finished college. Now, she finally knew and understood why Peter ditched her at Homecoming. He clicked on it, afraid that she might resent him for what he did.  
  
She didn’t.   
  
Her story was too long for Twitter, so she had typed it on the notes of her phone.   
  
_“Back in 2016, Peter Parker was my homecoming date. He is a good friend, and one of the kindest people I've ever met. He flaked at the dance, and I thought it was because he was nervous. Now, I know, he left to save the day. He stopped my father, Adrian Toomes, from stealing dangerous high tech weaponry. My dad hurt him, and Peter could have left him to die like other heroes might have, but he didn’t. He saved his life. If that doesn’t tell you what kind of hero Peter is, I don’t know what will.” _  
  
Peter brushed tears away with the back of his hand, as his feelings caught up with his mind.  
  
He quickly noticed that Rhodey was trending.  
  
He feared that Rhodey getting involved might taint his Presidential Campaign but he knew they’d be no stopping him. He clicked on his page, and his heart leapt into his throat when he saw what he’d posted.  
  
It was a clip, simply tagged _#standwith_**_peterparker_**_. _It was one of their monthly training days, from before the blip; Peter would travel to the Headquarters and spend the day completing tasks set by Tony and Rhodey.

Peter clicked play, and watched, with teary-eyes.   
  
_Peter is standing in his suit, without his mask on. He is out of breath, and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, “Are you done?” He asks as he places his hands on his hips._  
  
_“Incoming!” Tony warns as he tackles Peter in a hug, holding him a few inches off the ground. Rhodey, behind the camera, laughs. _  
  
_“Ah, Mr. Stark!” Peter chuckles as he taps his hands against his arm._  
  
_“You’ve gotta stay vigilant, kid.” _  
  
_Peter rolls his eyes, “A hug is not dangerous.”_  
  
_“Oh, really?” Tony starts to spin him on the spot, they both giggle playfully._  
  
_“Congrats, Tones!” Rhodey exclaims, “You’re a dad.”_  
  
Peter noticed, through glazed eyes, that Rhodey had tagged Pepper in the tweet. Peter clicked on her profile, he didn’t expect to see anything. She hadn’t used Twitter in years, and since Tony died, she made an effort to keep a low profile for Morgan’s sake.   
  
To his surprise, she had posted.  
  
She hadn’t captioned it or tagged it. The picture itself said a thousand words, no more were needed.  
  
It was of Peter and Tony, curled up on the couch. Peter was fast asleep, with his head rested against Tony’s chest, and his knees sprawled across his lap. Tony was twiddling his fingers around Peter’s curls, with the Spider-Man mask draped over his shoulder; Peter remembered the day, it followed one of his toughest patrols where he hadn’t been able to save the life of a young woman. Tony comforted him.  
  
He’d seen the picture before, it had been Pepper’s lock screen on her phone. After all these years, it still was. (_Her background was Morgan, obviously_.)  
  
Peter moved, leaning his head against Michelle's shoulder. She tightened her grasp on his hand, “It’s gonna be alright.”   
  
Peter’s throat cracked, but she was right. They’d find their equilibrium, no matter how crazy their new _normal_ would have to be, “I know.” 


	30. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into how Tony coped without Peter, for five years. (And why Peter is Morgan's hero.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This doesn't stick to canon! It's angst with a happy ending! YAY!

**I. 356 Days Without Peter**  
  
It had almost been a year.  
  
Since the Avengers lost, and Thanos won.   
  
The Titan was dead, that might seem like a victory, but it wasn’t. His death served no purpose. He died the victor, and there was no changing that.  
  
Tony struggled to move on, in the wake of devastation. It hurt to breathe every day, knowing that Peter Parker was _gone_.

Survivor's guilt had made itself comfortable, pressed against his chest, slowly suffocating him. He buried his pain deep but made sure he never forgot his ridiculously intelligent, and caring mentee. They say you're not forgotten until someone speaks your name for the last time, and Tony had a plan, to make sure the universe chorused Peter’s name, until the end of time itself.  
  
Tony didn’t sleep much, as unhealthy as that was, it did come in handy with a newborn baby. _Morgan Stark._

Since Peter died, Tony felt like life stopped, as if everything around him was frozen in time. He still felt like that, the space Peter left behind would always be there, however, Morgan helped him along. Tony could now feel time passing, but it was slow.   
  
Morgan was three days old, and Tony hated letting her out of his sight, even for a second. He did that with Peter, and before he knew it, the kid was fading away. The fixation was self-deprecating but he couldn’t risk losing her too.  
  
Happy was yet to meet Morgan. He’d been in Europe when the _big day_ came, and couldn’t make it back in time. Tony could tell he was upset that he missed such a tremendous event, but he would make up for it.   
  
“He’s here,” Tony whispered, he watched as Happy jumped out of his car and raced up the porch stairs.  
  
Morgan was fast asleep in Pepper’s arms, she smiled as Happy opened the front door.  
  
“Hey…” Tony went to greet him, but Happy simply handed him a gift bag and hurried over to Pepper. Tony stood in shock, “Um, wait.” He turned, “You know, I hate being handed things.” Happy didn’t give a shit about what Tony was saying, he was too busy cooing over his niece, “Wow.”   
  
Pepper shook her head as she chuckled, “This is Morgan.”  
  
Happy grinned, “She’s amazing.”  
  
“Hey…” Tony teased, “I’m meant to be the centre of your world, Hogan.”  
  
Happy snorted a laugh, “You sure are, boss.”   
  
Tony narrowed his eyes, “Yeah, that’s likely.” His mouth twitched into a smile as he watched on, he hadn’t seen Happy like this in a long time, not since before they lost Peter. The kid had a knack for finding his way into the heart of those with the coldest exteriors, it took him a while but eventually, he did it with Happy. Happy took Peter’s death hard, even if he didn’t show it. He confessed his guilt, he felt responsible for Peter and wished he had done something that day, to stop Peter from joining the fight.  
  
Tony’s curiosity got the best of him, and he reached into the gift bag. His heart leapt up into his throat, as he pulled out a onesie. Not any old boring onesie, but a Spider-Man one, inspired by Peter’s suit.   
  
Tears filled his eyes as he studied it. It was one of the most adorable things he’d ever seen in his life.   
  
“Sorry, I should have warned you…” Happy eased, “I saw it, and could hear the kid telling me to get it.....I mean, he’d kill me if I’d ignored it.”  
  
Pepper smiled, with misty-eyes, “It’s beautiful.”  
  
Tony blinked away tears, “Yeah.” He wasted no time in charging over and tackling Happy in a hug. Happy let out a wet laugh, as he folded an arm around Tony’s back.  
  
This was perfect and was exactly what Tony needed.   
  
He couldn’t save his kid, but he could be damn well sure that they would remember him.   
  
**II. 718 days without Peter**  
  
New York City mourned Peter too. They missed their Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man and everything he stood for.   
  
Their love for him sparked a holiday. _Spider-Man Day. _It was a festival, of sorts; famous bands (_or what was left of them_) headlined, tickets sold out quickly, and streets were closed across the city.   
  
It was crazy, and Tony knew Peter would freak out if he were around to see it.  
  
Morgan’s first birthday happened to fall on the second Spider-Man Day. So, naturally, they took her.   
  
She wore adorable ear defenders, and a new Spider-Man outfit, as she’d outgrown the last. She spent the day, clapping at everything, and happily gurgling at all images of Spider-Man.  
  
They found an empty cafe for lunch, because being who they were, they got noticed.   
  
Pepper popped to the toilet, while Tony entertained Morgan. She was yet to say her first word, so they enthusiastically enunciated every word they said, in the hope, it would make it easier for her to pick up.  
  
Tony took the Spider-Man plushie he bought for her, she leaned forward in her high chair, she cooed as she held out his hands, “You want it?” He handed it over, “There you go, little miss.” Morgan blew a happy raspberry as she squished the toy, with love, “You like it?” He asked as he bopped her nose, “Me too.”  
  
Morgan flung her hands back, over excitedly, the toy fell out of her grasp onto the floor. She leaned down, frantically searching for it.  
  
“Oh no…” Tony sighed sympathetically, “Don’t worry, I’ve got…”   
  
“Pee--ty!” Morgan exclaimed urgently as she tried to reach it.   
  
Tony stared at her, with wide-eyes, “You…”   
  
“P...etey!” She chanted again, adamant in her need.   
  
“Um, okay…” Tony stuttered, in disbelief, “I’ve got him.”   
  
He picked up the toy and gave it back to her. She wrapped her arms around it protectively, the closest she’d ever get to hugging her brother, “Petey…” She said, softly, as she cradled the toy.   
  
“Yeah.” Tony hiccuped, as he brushed his fingers against her cheek, “That's right, Morguna.” He bent over, kissing her forehead, “You’re brilliant.”   
  
Peter was the subject of many of Morgan’s bedtime stories, so it made sense that his name was her first word, but it tugged at Tony’s heartstrings as she happily chanted it, without a care in the world.   
  
Pepper skipped over, Tony looked up at her, with teary-eyes, “Honey…” She said, worried, “What’s wrong?”  
  
Morgan perked up, “Petey!”  
  
Pepper’s breath hitched as her focus shifted to their daughter, “Oh.” She knelt, Tony watched as she showered Morgan with praise, he smiled, as he wiped tears away with the back of his hand.  
  
Morgan was still too young to realise that Peter was real, not just a fairytale. _Right now_, Tony was content with him being her hero.  
  
**III. 1827 days without Peter **  
  
Time used to pass by slowly.   
  
However, as Morgan grew, it flew by, in an instant. She’d been a baby one day, and then, suddenly she was four. Tony couldn’t tell where the time had gone. It hadn’t healed the loss of Peter. That hurt was still there. Every day it followed him like a shadow, in everything he did.  
  
It was ironic, that Tony been mourning him for longer than he had known him; Peter left an impact, especially on Morgan, even though the pair never met.  
  
She idolized him, not only as Spider-Man but as Peter Parker too.   
  
She was mischievous and found her way into rooms, cupboard, places she shouldn’t be. She found a box of Peter’s old stuff, that Tony had saved from his and May’s apartment before it was sold. She loved his punny t-shirts and had started wearing them as pyjamas.   
  
Slowly, she realised that Peter was real, and Tony could tell, she wasn’t far away from wanting to know why she never got to meet him. Morgan’s grief for Peter, would one day marvel Tony’s. He knew Peter, he got to love him, and watch him grow. Morgan only had stories, and when she reached a certain age, that wouldn’t be enough, and she’d realise what she missed out on.  
  
Morgan was charging around, in her Spider-Man jumper, playing her solo edition of ‘_Cops and Robbers_’ which was basically‘_Spider-Man and Robbers_.’   
  
She stopped, and climbed up onto the couch, next to Tony. She leaned her head against his bicep as she caught her breath.   
  
“You tired?” He asked as he twiddled his fingers through her hair. She shook her head, as she stared down at the floor. Tony could tell there was something on her mind, “What’s wrong, baby?”  
  
She anxiously fumbled with the sleeves of her jumper, “Where’s Petey?” She asked, her voice low as if she were scared to say it.  
  
“Oh.” Tony swallowed the dread in his throat, “Come here.” He gently moved her onto his lap, and locked a strong arm around her front, “You know about the blip?”  
  
“Yeah. People disappeared…”  
  
“They did.” Tony confirmed, as he brushed strands of hair out of her eyes, “You see, Peter was one of those people.”  
  
“I know that.” She held out a hand, “It’s just...where is he?”  
  
“Um…” Tony stuttered unsurely, “I don’t know, honey.”  
  
She pressed her head against his chest as she looked up at him, “Is he lost?”  
  
“Something like that.”

A knowing smile grew on her face, “I have an idea!” She escaped Tony’s grasp, and charged around the room, in a state of joy. 

“Yeah?”   
  
Morgan froze, “I’m gonna ask Santa if he can find him.”  
  
Tony kept up appearances, a small smile, not wanting to burst her bubble.   
  
She charged away, in search for paper, to write an_ early _Christmas list.  
  
Tony sniffled, as tears spilt down his cheeks.  
  
His heart was heavy and he found it impossible to breathe.  
  
Morgan could ask_ Santa_ for anything, and she was going to ask for something she could never have.  
  
**IV. The day Peter returned **  
  
They did it.   
  
The Avengers achieved the impossible.   
  
They were _back_, all of them. Everyone they lost.   
  
It took five years, and many sacrifices, but they did it.  
  
Tony would admit, he only did it for Peter. He didn’t care if that sounded selfish, screw what anyone else thought. It was true. If Peter had survived, there was no way in hell Tony would have even considered the time heist.   
  
Tony was pushed down to the ground. He flipped around, ready to fight, but the creature looming over him had the upper hand.  
  
Then, as if he’d never been gone, Peter webbed the creature up and pulled it back, effortlessly. Scott, as Giant-Man, then squished it, for good measure.   
  
Peter charged over, closing the distance between them. Tony’s heart stopped, and the air was knocked clean from his lungs. He didn’t know to do or say. When you mourn someone, you don’t expect them to come back. There are five stages of grief, but this needed a new definition. A sixth stage, to help those who got their loved ones back after going through the recovery of losing them.   
  
Peter grabbed Tony’s arm and pulled him to his feet, with ease, “Holy cow! You will not believe what's been going on!” He exclaimed as he held onto Tony’s arm, “Do you remember when we were in space? And I got all dusty? I must've passed out, because I woke up, and you were gone.” He rambled, holding out his arm, “But Doctor Strange was there, right? He was like, "_It's been five years. Come on, they need us_."” He twirled his hand around, to emphasize his tale, “And then he started doing the yellow sparkly thing that he does all the time.”  
  
Tony couldn’t hold back, as much as he loved to hear Peter talk like there was no tomorrow. He moved forward, pulling Peter into a hug, holding him as close as he could.   
  
“What are you doing?” Peter hiccuped, confused. _God_, this kid would never understand what they’d been through in the wake of losing him. How empty the world was without him in it, “Oh, this is nice.” Tony leaned, to press a kiss against Peter’s cheek, “Mr. Stark?”  
  
Tony didn’t give a shit about the battle around them, he had his kid back in his arms. He would take every precaution now, to keep him safe. He would take helicopter parenting to a whole new level.  
  
Tony stepped back, to study him. He deactivated the nanotech on his hand, so he could cup Peter’s cheek, “You’re back…”  
  
“What?” Peter raised an eyebrow, “You miss me?  
  
Tony scoffed a cry, “Oh, kid. You don’t know the half of it.”  
  
He tugged him into another hug.  
  
He silently thanked the stars, and Natasha Romanoff, for saving his kid.

Also, Morgan, whose seemingly impossible Christmas wish had come true.

**V. 34 days since Peter returned**  
  
Tony thought he was going to die.  
  
He put on that gauntlet, knowing that it would destroy him but that didn’t matter.  
  
The world was falling apart, and he was the one who had to put it back together.

If he died, he did it for the future of his children. In the knowledge that they’d at least be together.  
  
However, when the prominent smell of hospital disinfectant overwhelmed his nostrils, he realised he’d survived. _Wow_, he loved it when he did that. Although, he wasn’t sure how he’d managed it, and he probably had more than a few people to thank.   
  
He blinked his eyes open as ignored the annoying beeping coming from the machines around him. He could hear Rhodey, his friend was closeby, talking outside in the corridor. He was talking to May...that was May's voice. She was back and _alive_.   
  
Tony was spaced, but he could make out a few things; Pepper was fast asleep, with her head rested against the bed, and her hand laid on top of his.   
  
His heart fluttered, at the sound of familiar snoring that came from the other side of the room. A sound that he hadn’t heard in five years.

He turned and saw something he never thought he would.   
  
Peter was fast asleep on the couch in the corner, and curled up, rested in his arms, was Morgan. They were together, it was _real._   
  
Tony smiled, knowing this marked the day, where his life truly began. 


	31. Embrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony couldn’t sleep, he kept tossing and turning, deterred by nightmares. By the vile images of that fateful day. The day Peter Parker died. Of course, his worry was unnecessary; Peter was back, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

It had been six years since Thanos won.   
  
Well, technically that win was_ redundant _now. The Titan lost, and he was killed twice, for good measure.

The Avengers won. However, their win required sacrifices.

Tony set aside a moment, every day, to thank Natasha. To remember her, but he kept living his life because she would want that for him.  
  
Tony couldn’t sleep, he kept tossing and turning, deterred by nightmares. By the vile images of that fateful day. The day Peter Parker died.   
  
_Of course_, his worry was unnecessary; Peter was back, and he wasn’t going anywhere. According to Strange, the blipped didn’t actually die. They were frozen, in a sliver of time, which is why they had no recollection of when they disappeared or the time that had passed in their absence.   
  
Tony didn’t care about the laws of the infinity stones or believe any of Strange’s bullshit because he remembered the way Peter clung onto him, for dear life, as he pleaded to be saved. Peter wasn’t like the others, he knew what was happening to him and he died_ scared_.  
  
When they got him back, the kid acted pretty blasé about the whole thing, he followed the crowd and pretended that he had no memory of it. A few months in, the nightmares crept in, and Peter’s walls crumbled; he would wake up screaming, as he relived the moment, again and again. Tony had spent his fair share of late nights, running into his kid’s room and reassuring him that he was _safe_. On Sam’s referral, Peter started seeing someone, and it did help; his nightmares went from being a nightly occurrence to something that only happened once or twice a month.  
  
It was May’s idea for Peter to sleepover at the Lake House, in time for the anniversary. She, like the others, understood that Tony went through something that they didn’t. He was the only one who watched Peter fade, aside from Nebula, who in recent months, had grown fond of him. May faded too and didn’t suffer the loss of her nephew. She knew that Tony would want him close, and vice versa.   
  
Tony argued with his mind, as he attempted to sleep. He had checked on Peter, multiple times before he and Pepper went to bed, he was two doors down the corridor, fast asleep. It didn’t matter what Tony’s mind said, his heart kept imagining the _worst_.   
  
He groaned as he let his paranoia consume him. He sat up, and stretched his arms over his head as he yawned, he quietly jumped out and tiptoed into the corridor, treading softly, trying not to wake Pepper.  
  
He scurried across the carpet, as silent as he could be. He rolled his eyes, and cursed his anxieties, as he reached Peter’s door.   
  
He pushed it open but it got stuck, weighed between a disregarded pair of pants. Even Peter couldn’t escape the stereotypes of an everyday teenager, his room was a mess. There were clothes and plates on the floor; he had multiple half-drunk cups of decaf coffee around the room, Tony dreaded to think how long they’d been there. Even though it was undoubtedly gross, it was a sign that he was alive, and Tony would take it. Most teenagers went through their grunge stage, including Tony himself.   
  
Tony managed to free the door and get in. The ground beneath him softened, and something heavy pushed against his chest, making it hard to breathe. Peter wasn’t in his bed. _Fuck_, Tony’s anxiety might have been right this time. Now that was cause for panic.  
  
“Peter?” Tony hurried over, wondering if Peter had tucked himself between his bookcase and window sill, which he did when he was suffering from sensory overload. He wasn’t there either, “Fuck.”   
  
Tony’s mind went to bad places. To the delusional ‘_what ifs_’ that no one should dwell on, which made no sense, but they did in Tony’s state.  
  
He raced out into the corridor, he stopped in his tracks when he realised how stupid this was. Peter couldn’t have left, Friday would have alerted him. Tony had hardly slept, he would have heard if something had happened,_ right_?  
  
He swallowed the dread in his throat, as he darted his eyes around.

That’s when he noticed that Morgan’s bedroom door was ajar. 

With a heavy heart, he pushed the door open.   
  
His panic subsided as something warm and gooey spread across his chest.  
  
Peter was sprawled across Morgan’s bed, with one arm wrapped around her front; Morgan was curled up against him, and she was holding his other hand.   
  
Tony could guess what had happened; Peter and Morgan’s room were opposite one another. Peter must have woken from a nightmare, not a big one, but big enough to alert Morgan. She was fiercely protective of her brother, and this was all the proof anyone would ever need.   
  
Friday didn’t inform Tony, because Morgan had it handled.  
  
Peter’s face scrunched up as he stirred in his sleep, Tony cringed, “Oh, shit….” He muttered guiltily as he hovered beside the bed. Peter shifted, pulling Morgan closer, even in his sleep, he was protective. His senses didn’t work as well when he was sleeping, so for all he knew, Tony could be a potential threat.  
  
Peter blinked his eyes open, he stared at Tony, with bleary eyes, “Tony?” He mumbled, “Is…” He moved up a little, “Is...there...a Code...Underoos?” Tony snorted a laugh, Peter would not remember this in the morning. The kid detested the code name for Spider-Man and refused to say it out loud. _So_, he wasn’t really awake.   
  
“No, kid.” Tony reassured him, “Everything’s fine.”  
  
“That’s…” Peter slowly started to drift off again, “...Good.”  
  
Tony reached over, brushing a loose curl behind Peter’s ear, “Goodnight, bud.” He pulled the duvet up and tucked them in. He pressed a kiss against Peter’s forehead, and another on Morgan’s temple.  
  
Tony's life had fallen into place, and for the first time in forever, everything was _fine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it! 31 days, 31 prompts. It's been amazing, and I have enjoyed every second. Thank you so much for tuning it, and reading along. All your lovely comments have made my month! :)


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